Paranormally Yours: A Boxed Set

by Alisha Basso

  He closed his eyes, shaking his head. I suppose we can try. Opening his eyes, he took me by the arms, his hands large and startlingly warm in this mental landscape. First we must discover the pattern.

  “Then I weave a counter-pattern, right. Neutralization 101. I’m good at it.”

  I expanded consciously until the world’s billions were a tapestry. Everyone sees the metaphysical in a different way; a field of flowers, a palace of infinite rooms. I saw a tapestry, each life a colorful individual thread woven into a pattern of humanity.

  Everything looked normal. “I don’t see it.”

  There. Rafe turned my back to him and pointed. What’s that?

  A deadly sharp silver needle dipped in and out of the tapestry, undulating like a serpent cleaving waves. It drew a filthy rasping twine behind it, pulling roughly at the human threads, grating against the more delicate ones so hard they ripped.

  I hissed. “No wonder people are running scared. That needle’s a strong, focused image. The bad guy’s a better magus than I hoped.”

  Or there’s more than one.

  “Crap. That much energy, it’s more likely. It’ll take some real power to counter. Hope I have enough.”

  I fashioned a mental bucket and dipped it into my personal well of power. We’re taught to picture karmic energy—magic—as water. I meld the water image into my tapestry by spinning the water out as ruby thread.

  Sinking a mental finger into my bucket, I stirred the sparkling red water. It swirled faster and faster, tighter and tighter yet. When it was a pinpoint vortex, I pinched it and yanked up and out, like snapping a whip. A long glittering thread curled from my fingers.

  I loaded the golden needle of my will with the ruby thread of power. I couldn’t do anything about the human threads already fouled, but if I could anticipate the silver needle, I could stitch a counter-pattern and neutralize the magic in real time.

  Cross, cross, zig-zag. Rafe’s voice was warm in my ear. That’s the pattern.

  “I see it now.” I began to stitch in a mirror pattern. The neutralization spell worked in opposition, like canceling sound waves.

  As I stitched, the wicked twine began to thin. I was in my groove, feeling the silver needle’s rhythm so well I could anticipate it. The evil twine started to fray. I smiled. Only a bit more and it would snap. The spell would be broken.

  Amaia, watch out.

  The silver needle jagged off in a totally unexpected direction. I nearly wrenched my arm countering it.

  Steady now. Rafe anchored me against his chest, murmuring encouragement.

  The silver needle accelerated, undulating in and out of humanity’s fabric faster and faster until it blurred.

  “More thread.” Sucking up more water and spinning it quickly, I followed. My heart thudded faster and faster as I sped to catch up. My breath came faster too, like I was running, until I gasped for air. Human magic was tied to life energies. Rapidly draining my personal store had an impact on my physical body.

  Whoever I was countering had more magic than me. Only my wits and training kept me in the race.

  Suddenly the silver needle turned, flipping, eye-blink fast, like an Olympic swimmer. I practically snapped inside out following it. When it flipped again, still nimble, still strong, I stumbled and fell to mental knees. The foul twine outraced me, thickening as it went.

  My energy was flagging. This would take more than I had in my personal well.

  I would need to tap the collective pool.

  The pool is fed by every human on Earth, consciously by magic users and subconsciously by mundane. It’s what the mundane tap in an emergency—using it to lift cars and work miracles. Jinn couldn’t touch it.

  But human wizards could tap the general pool, though there was a backlash if we used it for personal gain. I guessed fighting worldwide doom might qualify as public good.

  I threw a mental hose into humanity’s pool of energy and drew hard.

  I sucked sand.

  The needle raced away. Coughing, I tossed the hose aside and tried to harvest pool magic directly with my cupped hands.

  Dry earth drained through my fingers. My throat felt equally dry. The whole pool couldn’t have disappeared. Nothing short of global annihilation could destroy all humanity’s magic. “Rafe, what’s happening?” My voice shook, even on the ethereal.

  Fear. Panic has driven the pool underground, pushed it too deep to use.

  Shock took the strength from my body, and I fell onto my hands. Dry, hot sand burned my palms.

  Rafe caught my shoulders, half-urging and half-lifting me with large, strong hands.

  What would I do without his strength and support? Just his being there gave me renewed energy. I regained my feet and took a better hold of my golden needle. His hands dropped away.

  The silver needle raced on, its horrid twine almost back to full strength, choking humanity’s threads like briar vines.

  Dammit, I had to stop it. I needed magic, now.

  I switched back to my personal well of energy, throwing the bucket as deep as I could.

  No splash comforted me. I hauled my bucket up, found it empty. Trembling, I peered into my well. Only my physical life was left, and not much of that.

  Still, I tried. I pulled my mental hose from humanity’s pool, tossed one end into my well, and siphoned. What liquid dribbled out I spun into a thread that was more blood red than ruby. I loaded my needle and stabbed it into the tapestry.

  Two stitches used it up. I kept going, stitching counter to the skipping silver needle, hope and willpower my only thread.

  Under me, humanity tore like rotten cloth. I fell again, exhausted.

  Amaia, enough. Rafe tugged me to my feet and gathered me into his arms. You haven’t the reserves.

  “I can’t stop. Look at that butchery!”

  The silver needle crested, barbed twine ripping countless threads behind it. Threads that were really torn and bleeding human lives.

  You can’t fight him.

  “You mean I’m a newbie witch, not good enough.” Like Wenkermann said.

  I don’t mean that at all. He stroked my hair. This isn’t your everyday enemy. Your entire Center, some of the most talented magi on the planet, missed him. He has brought on Armageddon under your very noses by manipulating mass hysteria—despite your actively suppressing same.

  My body felt like a block of ice, my heartbeat a rapid, hollow thud within. “Then what can any of us do?”

  You must call a jinni.

  There it was again. But though I’d wanted the secret, I really hadn’t planned to use it. Not unless nothing else worked. Because Wenkermann was right, the jinni would want payment. This big? It’d be my life.

  I turned in Rafe’s arms. The silver needle flashed in the distance. “There are still other possibilities. There have to be.”

  Yes. And we shall try them. But after calling the jinni.

  “Why?” I put my palms on his chest, and felt the steady beat of his heart. “Why are you pushing me to do this?”

  Why was he—I—he pushing me toward suicide?

  If you wait, you limit yourself to facing this strong, subtle enemy in a series of hastily erected, flimsy, crumbling defenses. His black diamond eyes gleamed. Better to be ready to take him out with your most powerful weapon in one well-prepared blow. Amaia. You must call the jinni, and you must do it now.

  When he put it like that…or when I put it like that…well crap. I try to be brave, often end up being just practical, but in this case they were one and the same. Practically speaking, if I waited, I wouldn’t have enough energy to call a humming bird, much less a cosmic A-bomb.

  Faced with the choice of now or never, I had to choose now. “Fine. I’ll give up my remaining months of life. I’ll call a jinni. Not to use, not right away. But at least he’ll be ready.”

  It will not take your life.

  “Oh?” I paused, wondering how I knew that. Maybe my wishful thinking coming out of his mouth. “That’
d be good. But I still don’t know how to do it.”

  Rafe smiled the cold hard smile of a knife’s blade. I do.

  Sure he did. “Bring it on, then. Or bring him on. How?”

  You must simply… “Ask.” Like Zeus birthing Athena, Rafe sprang fully formed from my head to stand before me on spread tree-trunk legs.

  Chapter Four

  I stared up, and up, at six and a half feet of hard male.

  He stood before me, fists on hips. Loose pants, riding low, barely covered him. Nothing at all covered his granite chest, a flawless bare canvas for the flame tattoo licking one pec.

  “Oh my God. You’re real.”

  He was the Rafe of my imagination, but sharper, leaner. Harder. Muscles jutted fiercely in reality; his well-cut mouth and square jaw were honed to an almost cruel degree. His black hair, bound in a braid, cascaded over his chest, the tail teasing the dent of his navel.

  But what stunned me immobile was his gaze.

  Black diamond eyes, the brilliance of galaxies, gleamed with an inhuman intelligence, blazing with a will that could defy the stars and a power that could wipe out entire civilizations—and perhaps had.

  Those eyes marked him as jinn.

  I swallowed hard. I’d always thought my guardian angel was a subconscious Mini-me. But karmic science says when facts don’t fit the theory, you have to change the theory.

  So, new theory—my guardian angel was a powerful jinni. Physically compelling, haloed in a beautiful, deadly magic, the reality of him raked me with feelings from joy to heart-pounding terror—and instant arousal.

  I squirmed uneasily on my pillow.

  His nostrils flared. “You wish to engage in Venus magic?”

  “Wha…? No.” Damn Dennis for starting me down that road.

  I scrambled to my feet, breathing hard and not just because I’d used up my energy and my lungs were diseased. “I’m not into…I don’t do sex magic. In fact, I don’t usually do much magic at all. I’m a pure research wizard. My dissertation was Chants for the Betterment of Humanity.”

  “I know. I helped write it, remember?” A tiny smile tilted his gorgeous lips. “‘Behavioral physics has a historical genesis in Gregorian chant.’ A little stilted, but good for an undergrad.”

  Oh, crap. He was real. All those times I’d thought…all those times I’d imagined…no, they hadn’t been totally innocent. He was hot, after all. “But you’ve always been in my head. How did you get”—I gestured a bit desperately at the physical reality of the meditation room—“here?”

  One black brow cocked. “You asked me to come, remember?” I’ll give up my remaining months of life. I’ll call a jinni. Bring him on.

  He beamed the thoughts directly into my brain. I knocked myself on the skull. “Don’t do that.”

  His other brow raised. “We have been speaking thus your entire adult life.”

  “Yeah, but I thought you were a figment of my imagination. A construct to consider all sides of a problem.” I kept my eyes glued to his. Despite the I-see-the-universe glitter to them, they were still less unnerving than his flame-licked naked chest, thanks to my Venus-fevered brain. Mental note: kick Dennis’s ass.

  Rafe’s brows took on an arrogant arch. “I have compressed my native energy into a physical manifestation. I am quite real.” He took a single step closer. With his long legs, it put him right on top of me. “This form has its advantages.” He cupped my cheek in one hand, and for just a moment, his gaze softened. “Your eyes are green.”

  I blinked up at him, the warmth of his palm radiating on my face. “All this time you’ve known me, you never noticed?”

  “Colors are different on the ethereal. You have a Mayan noble’s features, the bronze hair and skin. I didn’t expect the green of your eyes to be real.” His thumb started stroking.

  Soft need cascaded down my throat and melted my bones. “I’m only a quarter Maya. My grandpa Jones was Welsh and the Fletcher side…wait. You know this. You’ve been in my head.”

  “I never invaded your mind. I simply listened to what you chose to reveal to me, though most jinn are not so careful of privacy.”

  Which meant he might not know I thought he was hot.

  The corner of his mouth turned up. That, you have not kept secret.

  A furnace combusted in my cheeks. I stepped back from his warm, stroking thumb. “All right, I called you, but you set me up. You made that fuss about having a really strong defense against the Mayan Doom.”

  “I had to. Our time is limited, and I couldn’t come without your call.” He sauntered to the daybed, sat with animal grace, and patted the space next to him. “Our options are limited too. We must make our plans quickly.”

  “You mean my options are limited.” I folded my arms and stood firmly where I was. Even if the comforter was clean, no way I was sitting on a bed anywhere near Mr. Big, Hard, and Overwhelming. Not while I had Venus magic on the brain. If sex magic could ruin two human lives, I could just imagine what it would do to a wizard stupid enough to bonk a jinni. “Everyone knows jinn don’t give away squat for free.”

  “Some jinn do.”

  My arms fell. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Belief isn’t necessary. Action is.” He patted the bed again. “Come, Amaia. You’ve been pursuing your calculations single-mindedly for days, ignoring proper food and rest, and just now you expended most of your power attempting a neutralization spell. You’re tired. Sit.”

  I was tired. Practicality won out over caution. I took a step toward the bed.

  His black eyes flashed with triumph.

  Smack me with a stupid spell. Everyone knew jinn could talk you into anything, including surrendering your life. They were the grifters of the universe. I shook my head stubbornly and braced myself on the wall instead. “I can talk from here. What plans do you have in mind? The neutralization failed, and you shot down my Calm spell idea.”

  “Shot down…I didn’t mean to discourage you.” His granite features softened. “I’m trying to be practical, like you.”

  “Because it’s useful? Or plain dumb?”

  “Because it’s human. Cute.”

  My mouth fell open. I shut it with a snap. “Okay, let’s be practical. Can we free enough people from panic to un-pillbug and replenish the public energy pool?”

  “Unfortunately, the fear is sucking the magic away faster than a few positive emotions can replenish it.”

  “Right.” Karmic Physics for Dummies. Positive acts added energy, negative used. Yes, there are nasty people who seem to get energy from fucking up as many lives as they can. But take heart—their negative acts drain their personal wells. One day their “luck” runs out, and sooner rather than later.

  Which, parenthetically, is why the wizard’s motto is Make Positive Karma.

  But it did mean calming a few people wasn’t going to help, not when so many more were afraid and their fear was sucking it out again. “It’s annoying that you’re always right. Even when you were my guardian angel, it was annoying.”

  “Ah.” His head tilted. “I believe this is where I say…I sympathize.”

  I couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “Being practical?”

  “Being human. Or trying to be.” His face remained smooth granite and I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

  “If only I had more time. More energy.” I sagged against the wall and allowed myself a moment to backslide emotionally. “Stupid cancer.”

  Rafe’s beautiful face turned sad. “I would heal you, you know. But there are consequences.”

  I waved him down. “I know. Jinn energy is vast but limited. If you went around healing everyone, you’d snuff like a candle. Unless, just this once, for the world’s sake…?”

  He shifted on the daybed, a sign of discomfort in anyone not the twin of a cliff. “There are other reasons I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

  “All right.” I sighed. “I suggested a group of wizards to Wenkermann, but he said no. I’ll go arou
nd him if necessary, but maybe you have other ideas?”

  “You could draw from a major magical sink, like Stonehenge.”

  “We have maybe three hours left. The nearest sink is the Bermuda triangle, but access is restricted by international treaty. Even if we somehow fast-tracked the paperwork, it would be cutting it close.”

  “Which leaves some sort of energy-generating activity.” The swirling in his eyes stopped, replaced by a far more disconcerting hot gleam. “Like Venus magic.”

  “Or you could drain me for energy.”

  He shook his head. “Your personal well is already drained. I can’t—”

  “All of it. You could drain it all.”

  He stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You could take all my magic…my life.”

  “I will not—”

  “Jinn demand their pound of flesh.” I shoved away from the wall, pushing my point. “That’s just a way of saying you tap life energies, right? By trickery or hypnosis, if the tales are true.”

  His expression hardened past granite to diamond. “Perhaps some jinn do that. We are, after all, very old, and very rich in magical energies. Like old, wealthy humans, it is our nature to conserve. I, however, do not take that which is not offered.”

  “But I’m offering. I’m willing to give my life to you. Well, what’s left, anyway. Not a lot, but the very nature of my act, the freely offered sacrifice, should add power.” I threw my arms apart, leaving my karmic centers wide open and defenseless. “Can you tell if it’s enough to turn the tide?”

  “It’s moot. I won’t do it. Especially not while there are other less dangerous alternatives. Like Venus.”

  My arms dropped. “Rafe, we don’t even know that Venus magic will work for us.”

  “All the indicators are there.” Hot desire, purely male, fired his eyes.

  A long shiver passed down my body in response. Venus on the brain, or years of dreaming about him?

  Or, more improbably, a real connection?

  It just didn’t feel right. “We need megapower to defeat—what did you call him?—that worm. Venus won’t give us that.”