Ivy's Eyes

by Linda Palmer

  But even witches have to breathe. When I finally came up for air, I made myself break free and quickly grabbed the platter, which I thrust at him. "Go. Now."

  He nodded meekly and went out the back door to my grill. In no time, the smell of charcoaled meat wafted through the screen door. My mouth actually watered as I filled the salad bowls and sliced open the potatoes to butter them. I was not sorry when he finally came in with the steaks. "Is medium okay?"

  "Works for me."

  Dinner was divine. Fresh salad, perfect steaks, overstuffed potatoes, and bread. We both passed on dessert for the moment. He insisted on helping me with clean up, and since I wasn't ready to admit a simple spell could do it all, I did it the hard way.

  It wasn't easy to guess how Hutch felt about the supernatural, in particular witches. I didn't think anyone could live in Illusion without being slapped in the face by the eccentricities that were our town, so there was that. But knowing and believing weren't the same thing, and neither were knowing and accepting.

  So how did I go about revealing I had powers? I supposed I could show and then tell, but that might be too much, too soon. Or maybe I could talk about my aunt and the cougar-coven first and then move on to my own situation. Even better, I could reveal my true self in stages. A little magic here. A little magic there. All leading up to the big reveal. Guess what? Your girlfriend is a witch!

  Girlfriend?

  Ha! We'd had sex one time. Period.

  I was getting way ahead of myself. And the crazy thing? The idea of being Hutch's girlfriend felt as natural as my magic.

  "Yo, Ivy!" Hutch, who now sat beside me on the couch, grabbed my face so I'd look at him. "Are you in there?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "I've been talking for ten minutes, and you haven't heard a word."

  Oops. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

  "I was telling you about Javan's new piece. Saw it on the internet today. A sorceress."

  I definitely heard that. "For real?"

  "Yeah." He pulled out his smart phone and began to search for an image of it.

  Meanwhile, I got up and crossed the room to my curio cabinet. I motioned for him to join me, and, when he got there, opened the glass doors. I picked out my favorite pewter witch.

  "And I thought I had a problem." He peered closer to my collection, which numbered in the hundreds, picking up random pieces so he could check them out. He finally showed me the picture of the latest release. "This new one looks a little like you, I think."

  I softly gasped. Was now the time to confess?

  "What?" Hutch handed me an open invitation to come clean.

  For the first time since his arrival, my lips were stuck together. Finally I choked out a reply. "Look at all that dust." I blew on the shelf.

  Hutch stepped back, blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes.

  "Oh no! I'm sooo sorry. What was I thinking?" I set down the sorceress I'd picked up, knocking over six more in the process since the shelf was stuffed. "Here, let me see if there's anything in your eye." And while I do that, I just might read your soul.

  "No, no. I'm fine." He ducked out of reach. "Impressive collection. When did you start it?"

  "Tamsyn gave me my first one when I was four." As in right after I saved that kitten.

  "Miss Tamsyn, huh? So we both have relatives to blame for our obsessions."

  "Exactly. Are you ready for dessert now?"

  Hutch grinned. "Just what I was thinking." He went for the hem of my shirt.

  I had to laugh. "No, no, no. I meant real dessert. Baklava."

  "Oh."

  "You have eaten it before, right?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  "And you liked it."

  "Almost as much as I like making love to you."

  Although love had nothing to do with what went down in the laundry room, I smiled. "Great answer. Have a seat and hold that thought."

  In the kitchen, I put the gooey treat on a plate. I also made coffee, which took a whole two minutes. So less than five minutes after leaving Hutch, I sat beside him on the couch and set a tray on the table in front of us. "Enjoy."

  We did. And after that, we had seconds, only this time the way he wanted them. Lying on the couch with him full on top of me felt so right. We fit like a glove. And when he began to move his lower body against mine, I quickly forgot about being honest. If I told him the truth and he left, I'd be shattered. I did not want that. I wanted him.

  After mutual memorable climaxes, we covered up with a blanket and spooned on the couch watching TV. I loved how his hands wandered. Here a touch. There a touch. More than once I turned to steal a kiss, and got it plus a big grin for my trouble.

  "I don't know anything about you," I told him.

  "Ask."

  "Are your parents living?"

  "No."

  "Do you have siblings?"

  "No."

  "But you do have family, right?"

  "Yes, in Maine. Aunts, uncles, dozens of cousins. What about you?"

  I told him where my parents were. "I have four sisters."

  "Jesus. All that estrogen. Your poor dad."

  "I know, right? How'd your parents die?"

  "Would you mind if we skipped that question?"

  Surprised and chagrined, I rolled to face him. "I'm so sorry. Didn't mean to resurrect painful memories."

  "It's all good."

  He was right. It was all good, or would be if I could gaze into his eyes. I shifted slightly to do it. Hutch sighed and lowered his lids. He looked so relaxed that I didn't speak, instead resting my head on his shoulder. We both dozed off. The wail of a siren on a passing police car woke us. He looked at his watch. "Damn! I've got to go."

  I sat up so he could. "What's the rush?"

  "I'm taking care of my neighbor's dog. If I don't let him out, he'll crap in the house. Probably has already." He got his clothes and hurriedly dressed. I wrapped up in the blanket so I could follow him to the back door, tripping over it only once. He gave me a quick, hard kiss as he left. "You're amazing, you know that?"

  A big smile was all the answer I could manage.

  I locked up and turned off the light before shuffling to the bedroom. The house felt different. I blamed Hutch for having such a huge presence. Without him, it was too quiet, too empty, too lonely.

  Where would we go from there?

  I just didn't know, and I tried not to think about it as I pulled on my Hermione Granger sleep pants and tee. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry and wonder. Now I needed rest.

  * * * *

  Something woke me. Groggy from a deep, deep sleep, I opened my eyes. The room was dark. The digital clock read 2:00 am. I'd barely been in bed a couple of hours. Certain outside noise had seeped inside, I turned over to go back to sleep.

  A thump made me sit straight up. Tossing back the covers, I crept to the door. That's when I heard what could only be low chanting, and more than one voice doing it. My blood ran cold. I closed my eyes and whispered a safety spell before making my way down the shadowy hall.

  I wished for a ball bat or even a gun, weapons no respectable witch would consider. But not knowing for sure who was after me made things very tricky, especially now that I suspected it was someone with more powers than I.

  The sound was definitely coming from the kitchen. As I got closer, I saw flickering lights. I held my breath and risked a nanosecond peek through the door.

  Four caped women huddled over handheld candles. I was pretty sure I knew who one of them was. The others? No idea, but they probably intended to pool their powers. How'd they get in? What should I do?

  The basement would be safest. My circle was there. But they stood between me and the door. Silently repeating my safety spell, I eased away from it and quietly made my way to the shop door.

  "Porta aperta." The words were little more than a breath.

  I tried the knob. It turned. I grabbed the nearest thing with weight—a rock I sometimes used as a door prop—and moved int
o the shadows of my living room. Not for nothing had I played softball for six years. I hurled the rock into a shop wall as hard as I could. Glass shattered.

  My four intruders shrieked and burst through the door, headed for the shop. I waited until they were past before loping into the kitchen and shutting the connecting door. "Blocca porta, blocca porta, blocca porta." That should slow them down. I turned to run to the basement, but only managed two steps before loud chanting came through the door.

  Over and over they said words I didn't recognize. I quickly grabbed a flashlight from the drawer so I could see where I was going. But before I could move, my legs went numb.

  A voice rang out loud and clear. "You think you've got him, but you don't, silly bitch."

  I knew that voice well. "Go to hell, Ember."

  "I'd rather send you there."

  Every step was agony. My skin felt as prickly as a pin cushion; my legs felt as if they weighed a ton. I literally had to lift each to make it move. The basement door might as well have been a mile away. I shuffled forward two more steps and a third before I toppled to the floor. In a way this was better. So far my arms were okay. I could keep moving by dragging myself across the floor.

  The chanting got louder. Ember shrilly taunted me with her opinion of my looks, my skills, and my power. Finally my hand touched the door. Whispering "porta aperta" again, I felt the magical holds release. I pushed it open. Without trying to turn around, I descended the wooden steps head first and on my belly. My chin scraped on the wood, as did my elbows and knees. It was a bumpy ride, and I lost the flashlight en route.

  When I got to the bottom, I dragged myself into my circle and heaved a sigh of relief as I rested my face on the pentacle. Family magic protected me now, at least a century of it. All I had to do was sit tight until the wicked witches of the Ozarks gave up and went away.

  Gasping for breath, I got on my hands and knees and picked up a short candle I'd used before and left there. My eyes stayed glued to the door, which I should've locked behind me. I tried to do it now, but it was too late. I saw feet as four women began to descend the stairs, Ember in the lead. They all held candles. I recognized no one but her.

  "Light, please," she said.

  One of her companions waved a hand toward the chandelier, which was nothing more than a shadow within a shadow in the dark basement. The candles ignited. A flickering circle of light chased the darkness to the corners of the room.

  I stood, took a breath, and tried to keep my voice from shaking. "Why are you here?"

  "You're after my man, and I'm not having it. So I'm giving you a taste of what will happen if you see him again."

  "If he was ever yours, he sure isn't now."

  "Are you saying he's yours?"

  "I'm saying he's not acting under the influence. He didn't drink the potion."

  "As if I really needed one to get him. Sisters, let's have a little fun." With the sweep of one arm, Ember shattered a whole shelf of my potions without touching them. Bottles flew. Glass shattered. Liquids spilled. Puddles formed. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to remember a curse that would make her stop. But I hadn't made it a point to memorize evil hexes. I wanted to do good.

  With every flask, bottle, and beaker annihilated, Ember next tackled the herbs stored in a wooden organizer with tiny drawers. The familiar scents of jasmine, coriander, sage, and mint filled the air but soon blended with plants more exotic, which made the basement pleasantly aromatic. Seeds, leaves, and roots scattered across the concrete floor. As the odor intensified, I actually felt a little dizzy. I sat to keep from falling.

  Laughing, she toppled a row of books held upright by antique metal bookends. "See if her incantus is one of them." She as good as barked the order. One of her companions scurried to do as requested.

  "I don't see it."

  "Then look for it somewhere else. I know it's down here." Ember knelt at the edge of my circle. It was all I could do not to recoil. "Look into my eyes, Ivy. Tell me what I really am."

  How could she possibly know about my gift? I hadn't even discussed it with those closest to me until a short time ago. Hoping a glimpse would give me the knowledge to combat her, I focused on her dilated pupils and zoomed in mentally. Sheer evil looked back at me. Suddenly nauseated, I had to look away. I was no match for this witch, and not because she had more powers. She obviously didn't. It was her malevolence that gave her the advantage. She had no heart, no conscience to guide her. No hexes were barred.

  "Where's your incantus, Ivy? I'd really like to borrow it."

  I gave that question the attention it deserved. "No matter what you do to me or him, he'll never love you."

  Ember snorted a laugh. "Hutch is just a man, silly girl. A stupid man with the body of a god. He doesn't stand a chance against me."

  "Did I hear my name?"

  I heard gasps. Every gaze shifted to the steps, where shoes, legs, a torso, shoulders, and finally a face came into view. Oh no.

  "Hutch, run!"

  But he didn't. Instead he glanced around the room. "What's going on down here?"

  Ember rose and took a stand between us, facing him. "We're just having a laugh."

  "Really? Because Ivy doesn't look amused."

  He coolly slipped past Ember, who now moved closer to her coven members. I knew they were about to share their strength. I watched in horror as she grabbed the hand of the nearest witch, who did the same, forming a circle of four. "Hutch, listen to me. You need to go now."

  His toe touched the rim of my circle. He smiled down at me. "May I?"

  How on earth did he know to ask? "Of course."

  He stepped into my protected space, took my flickering candle, and pulled me to my feet. "You okay?"

  I managed a nod.

  The flame of the candle he now held steadied, brightened, and stretched upward, as did the ones on the chandelier. I saw Ember's three back-ups exchange glances.

  Hutch closed his eyes. "Dark to light."

  I couldn't believe it. Sure, he was trying to bluff the enemy. What he didn't understand was that Ember would never fall for that.

  Wait...had the room actually gotten lighter?

  There were more exchanged glances, which told me it had. One of the three back-up witches broke free and began edging toward the steps.

  "Agnes!"

  The woman froze mid-step, her eyes wide with fear.

  Ember's furious gaze ricocheted between Hutch and me. Did she have enough insight to sense the natural power shift that resulted when Hutch took my hand as he did just then? A shift that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with our having sex?

  "Agnes" sure got it. She spun and pounded up the steps, leaving a pair of uneasy accomplices.

  Ember glared at them before focusing on Hutch. "Do you really think the pitiful spells you've learned will work? You have to have real power, baby. Otherwise it's just words." She laughed softly. "I'll bet you've been reading one of her remedial spell books."

  "I don't really need a spell to keep Ivy safe."

  Her gaze dropped to our hands and entwined fingers. She sucked in a sharp breath and staggered back a step, her gaze nailing me. "You've had sex with him."

  I held up two fingers, one for each time, and wished it was more.

  "Bitch!"

  Suddenly I felt like the underpaid lead in a ridiculously horrible horror movie. And as savory potion ingredients became powder beneath our feet, I began to see things differently. What a fiasco. Ember with her pals. Hutch's shocking rescue attempt. Me, cowering when I should be kicking her fat ass. Laughter bubbled up. I could not hold it in.

  Hutch gave me a sharp look.

  I held up a hand to hold him off. "I'm okay."

  "Or not." A flick of his finger flipped a five-gallon bucket. It scooted across the room and into the circle. My jaw hit my chin. No one could fake that. Stunned that he actually had some powers, I offered no resistance when he pushed on my shoulders to make me sit.

  H
utch turned to face the witch who watched him closely. "By the power of Merlin and the Order of the Dragon, I bind you from further magic until the earth hides the sun from the moon times four."

  Whoa. He was talking about lunar eclipses, which only happened every six months or so.

  Back-up witch number two suddenly hauled butt to the stairs and fell all over herself scrambling up them. Ember rolled her eyes before zoning in on Hutch again. "Merlin? Order of the Dragon? What a load of bullshit."

  "By the power of Merlin and the Order of the Dragon I bind you, Ember, from doing magic until the earth hides the sun from the moon times four."

  She chortled. "Oh my goddesses. Didn't you hear me? I. See. Right. Through. You."

  "By the power of Merlin and the Order of the Dragon I bind you, Ember, from doing magic until the earth hides the sun from the moon times four."

  "This is ridiculous. I'm the one with the power. She's a whimpering coward, and you... Why you're nothing but a pharmacist with a hard-on for the wrong witch. So you'd rather have Goldilocks than me? Fine. But first take a really good look at what you're getting." She dramatically pointed a finger at me, obviously expecting her magic to do its worst, protective circle or no.

  Nothing happened.

  Not even a tingle. My circle was holding. Or was it? All at once, Ember turned to the empty shelves lining the walls. "Crollo."

  I waited for everything to collapse. Yet again, nothing happened. Shrieking, she raised her right hand and beckoned to the chandelier. The candles on it never even flickered.

  What the hell was going on?

  Hutch deliberately glanced up. The chandelier creaked and began to swing, slowly at first and then faster. Suddenly it dropped, landing inches from Ember. Sparks flew. Her dress caught on fire. She screamed several spells that should've doused the flames, but they just grew brighter. Turning to the remaining back-up witch, she screamed, "Put it out now!"

  Her last hope galloped up the stairs.

  Screeching, Ember slapped at the fire with her hands.