Touch of Magic

by Carin Rafferty

  She didn’t bother arguing with him. It would take too much energy, and she needed every ounce she had just to walk. Thankfully, she reached the repository’s door a few steps later. Opening it, she staggered inside.

  As she came to a stop, she had to rub her eyes again to clearly see the tables and display cases. She looked at them in confusion. There were so many items, and she was so tired she could barely remember her name. How was she going to choose what was the safest one to use?

  It has to be something he can keep with him.

  An amulet would be perfect, she concluded, heading for the display case that held the charms. Not only would he be able to wear it, but it was the least likely object to carry a spell involving the dark forces.

  She had narrowed down the field, but when she opened the lid, she groaned. There were at least two hundred amulets, and they were made from every type of crystal, gem, and metal known to man. One of the first things witches and warlocks learned as children were the magical properties each stone possessed. As tired as she was, it wasn’t too difficult to recall them.

  Her first instinct was to go with something made out of lava, onyx, or sapphire, which were used for defensive magic. But Moira had already done her damage, so Ryan didn’t need to be defended. He needed to be restricted.

  With a yawn, she began to sift through the charms, finally picking up a glittering emerald and eying it consideringly. Emeralds were good for exorcising an evil entity, and Moira was about as evil as they came. However, Ryan wasn’t possessed by her.

  Replacing the emerald, she lifted a handful of the charms and sorted through them, eliminating the diamond, the ruby, the tiger’s-eye, the amethyst, and the opal. All had potent magic, but none of them could inhibit Ryan’s newfound powers.

  She started to dismiss a jade pendant, but something about its properties began to nag at the back of her mind. She rubbed a hand over her eyes to help her think. Jade was used for longevity, healing, gardening, prosperity and . . .

  What else was it used for? she asked herself in frustration as another yawn escaped. She mentally ticked through the list again. Finally the elusive property came to her. One of jade’s strongest attributes was wisdom! It wouldn’t inhibit his powers, but it would give him the ability to make safe decisions about anything he did try to do. She was too exhausted to search any further. This would have to do.

  Tossing the other amulets back into the case, she closed the lid. As she turned toward Ryan, he said, “I am not going to wear that, Shana, so you might as well put it away.”

  She blinked at him, startled. How had he known that she wanted him to wear it? Of course. He could read her mind.

  “You have to wear it,” she said, holding it out to him. “Moira has given you magical abilities, and you aren’t trained to handle them. You might accidentally do something to bring harm to yourself or to the coven. This amulet will give you the wisdom you need to determine what you can and cannot do.”

  “I am not going to wear it,” he repeated staunchly.

  “Why not?” she asked impatiently.

  “It’s a necklace, Shana, and where I come from, men do not wear necklaces.”

  She could barely keep her eyes open, and it was only through sheer willpower that she was managing to do so. Damnit! She didn’t have time to argue with him. Within minutes she was going to be asleep.

  “We are not where you come from, Ryan. We are in Sanctuary, and warlocks wear amulets all the time. And unless you run around with your shirt open, no one will know you’re wearing it. It’s supposed to rest against your skin.”

  “Well, I am not a warlock, and I don’t wear necklaces, even if people don’t know I have them on. So put the damn thing away and get to bed.”

  “I am not going to bed until you put this on.”

  He scowled at her. “You promised to obey my every command.”

  “And I will, but only after you’ve put this on.”

  “Damnit, Shana! You’re about to collapse, and I am not in any condition to pick you up and carry you to bed.”

  “Then I guess you had better put on the amulet,” she said, around still another yawn. He was right. She was about ready to collapse. “Otherwise, you’ll just have to toss a blanket over me when I fall asleep right here on the floor.”

  “You can’t sleep on the floor. This place is as cold as a tomb. You’ll catch pneumonia.”

  “You’re a doctor. You can take care of me.”

  “You are the most infuriatingly stubborn woman I have ever met.”

  “I am not a woman. I’m a witch,” she said, leaning her hips against the display case and closing her eyes. “I’m also very tired.”

  “Don’t you dare go to sleep.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have much choice,” she murmured, dropping her hand to her side. She heard the amulet clink against the cabinet, but she was too exhausted to care.

  “Give me the blasted necklace,” he snapped. “I’ll put it on, but only if you promise to stay awake long enough to get to a bed.”

  All Shana wanted to do was sink to the floor and go to sleep, but she knew she couldn’t do that until he was wearing the amulet. Somehow, she dredged up enough energy to open her eyes, and she lifted her arm toward him. He snatched the amulet out of her hand and slipped its gold chain over his head.

  After dropping the stone down the front of his T-shirt, he said, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

  She was sure she’d never make it out of the room. But he had done what she asked, so she had to at least make an effort. Her body felt boneless, and her head spun when she pushed herself away from display case.

  “Easy,” Ryan said, gripping her upper arm to steady her. “Just take it a step at a time.”

  She nodded and shuffled forward. She had no idea how they reached the bedroom. All she knew was that a bed was suddenly in front of her. With a relieved sigh, she collapsed onto the mattress and closed her eyes.

  As she drifted off to sleep, an inner voice whispered, You forgot an important aspect of jade. It not only grants wisdom, it’s an ancient . . .

  The potion took over before the thought could complete itself.

  RYAN FROWNED DOWN at Shana’s prone body. She was sprawled sideways across the bed, and her legs were hanging halfway over the edge. He knew he needed to shift her so that her legs were supported. With his bad knee, however, there was no way he could move her.

  He considered trying to wake her enough to get her to move on her own. But, as he’d told her earlier, he was somehow attuned to both her mind and her body. Whatever was in that sleeping potion was potent, because she was so sound asleep she might as well be comatose.

  “So what the hell am I going to do? I can’t leave you like this,” he muttered, frustrated with his infirmity.

  Use the wishing wand to heal your knee, an inner voice urged.

  He shook his head. One zap from the wand had been enough for him. Besides, it was insane to believe that a piece of gnarled wood could heal.

  So, if it doesn’t work, what will you have lost? But if it does work, you’ll be whole again—in control again.

  He raked a hand through his hair. The suggestion was tempting, but it was still insane.

  Suddenly Shana murmured in her sleep, and she shifted her head. When she did, her hair fell away from her face. Ryan sucked in a harsh breath. Her entire left temple was covered with a blue and purple bruise.

  She’s all right! he told himself. I’m in touch with her body. I can feel what’s happening to it, and there’s nothing seriously wrong with her.

  But even as he offered himself the reassurance, he shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and touched the Tarot card he’d retrieved in Lucien’s car. It was the card of Death.

  Again he had an intuitive flash that Shana was in mort
al danger. He also knew in that instant where the danger was coming from—Moira.

  And you’re the only one who can save her. How are you going to do that if you can’t even walk?

  His common sense told him that he wasn’t being rational. But what had rationality ever gotten him? It sure as hell hadn’t saved the children whose eyes haunted him. They had depended on him—trusted him—and he’d let them die.

  Use the wand, the voice urged again. Don’t stand by and wait for Shana’s eyes to exist only in your nightmares.

  He shuddered at the thought, but still he was torn. If everything Shana had said about Moira was true, then how could he possibly defeat her? He didn’t know anything about spirit-witches. He was a doctor, for God’s sake, and not a very good one at that. Look how many times he had failed.

  Except now you have powers. You’re more than a man. You’ve been transformed.

  “I’ve lost my mind,” he muttered, turning toward the door. “And since I have, I might as well play with that stupid stick. With Sleeping Beauty out cold, it’s not as if I have anything else to do in this mausoleum.”

  When he arrived at the repository, however, he began to have second thoughts. Shana had said that the wand would make him sacrifice something important for using it. When he told her that the only important thing to him was his bike, he hadn’t been lying. But what if it was a long-range curse? What if something became important to him at a later date?

  “The only thing that will be important to me will be another bike,” he stated derisively as he made his way purposely toward the chair. Shana had laid the wand on its seat. “So what if it ends up taking a bike or two away from me? It will play hell with my insurance premiums, but it won’t be the end of the world. I may have been a lousy doctor, but I made an obscene amount of money. As the old saying goes, you can’t take it with you, and it’s not as if I have anyone to leave it to.”

  When he reached the chair, he grabbed the wand. All he had to do was make a wish, and he’d either end up looking like a fool, or he’d be able to walk.

  Make your wish in the pentagram, Shana’s voice stated so clearly in his mind that he started.

  He jerked his head toward the door, expecting to see her standing there. As he looked for her, his mind automatically connected with hers, confirming that she was still sound asleep. But if she was sleeping, how could she be speaking in his mind?

  Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. It wasn’t Shana speaking to him. It was Moira.

  Warily, he surveyed the room. He knew Moira was present. He could sense her, and he demanded, “What do you want from me?”

  There was no response, not even a rustle, and he raked a hand through his hair in nervous frustration. If Moira wanted him to use the wand, then, logically, he shouldn’t use it. But if he didn’t use it, what kind of help could he be to Shana?

  Without even realizing what he was doing, he raised his hand to his chest and touched the amulet through his T-shirt. When he did, the stone began to vibrate gently. It was an odd sensation, but strangely soothing.

  Instinctively, he closed his eyes, murmuring, “Tell me what to do.”

  Suddenly, he knew the solution. He opened his eyes and smiled in triumph. Then he limped to the center of the pentagram and released the crutch. As it fell to the floor, he balanced his weight on his good leg and gripped the wishing wand with both hands.

  Extending his arms upward so that the wand was pointing at the center of the pentagram on the ceiling, he said, “I wish to be physically whole and endowed with the magical skills to save Shana from Moira.”

  Instantly, lightning shot from the end of the wand to the pentagram above. Then it spiraled toward him. But instead of entering the end of the stick, it struck his chest where the amulet rested. The stone grew red-hot, and the fabric of his T-shirt began to smoke. But, to his amazement, it didn’t burn him. Instead, the same electrifying energy he’d experienced before streaked through him.

  Now you’ve found Sanctuary. The battle can begin!

  The lightning disappeared. Ryan immediately tested his knee. It was in perfect working order. More important, he knew he was also mentally equipped to fight the war that Moira had just declared. Not only had the wishing wand healed his leg. It had granted him the same powers as a warlock.

  “Yes!” he declared, perching his hands on his hips and gazing around the room victoriously. “The battle can begin!”

  AS SHANA DRIFTED toward wakefulness a sense of urgency nagged at her. There was something she had to do, but what was it?

  It’s about time you woke up.

  When Ryan’s voice reverberated in her mind, her eyes flew open in shock. All the events from the night before came flooding back. It was one thing for Ryan to read her mind, but it was an entirely different matter for him to be mentally communicating with her. What was going on?

  She bolted upright in bed. Sunlight was pouring through the windows, and a quick glance around the room proved that it was empty. Where was Ryan?

  I’m in the repository.

  “The repository?” she gasped in horror.

  Scrambling out of bed, she raced toward the closed door. As she stopped to open it, she suddenly realized that she was wearing only her T-shirt and panties. Panic surged through her. Ryan had removed her jeans, and the Tarot cards had been in the back pocket. If he had taken the cards . . .

  I didn’t bother your cards.

  His reassurance didn’t appease her. She turned to look for her jeans. They were lying across the back of the chair. She ran to it and grabbed the cards out of the pants pocket. Quickly, she counted them. All of them were there, she realized, sighing in relief.

  Not all of them are there. I still have the Death card.

  His words shocked her so badly that she nearly dropped the cards. What did he mean, he still had the Death card?

  I found it in Lucien’s car. Come to the repository. I’ll tell you all about it.

  “You’re damn right you’ll tell me all about it,” she muttered, tucking the cards back into the pocket and pulling on her pants.

  As she hurried through the house, her mind was racing toward a conclusion she didn’t even want to consider. But as much as she wanted to ignore it, she knew she had to analyze it. Death meant transformation. When she received the card, she lost her powers. Had Moira somehow managed to transfer her powers to Ryan?

  You’re partly right.

  Ryan’s confirmation rattled her. She wanted to pursue the matter, but she decided to wait until she reached the repository. What was he doing in there anyway? She expected him to provide an answer. When he didn’t, she really began to worry.

  By the time she reached the repository, she was out of breath. She burst through the door and stopped, panting as she looked around. Ryan’s crutch was lying in the middle of the pentagram, but he wasn’t there.

  “Ryan?”

  “I’m up here with the books,” he called out.

  She glanced upward and frowned. How had he gotten up the stairs without his crutch? Walking to the crutch, she picked it up and headed up the stairs. At least he was on the second level and couldn’t cause any damage there. All it contained were the journals that listed the objects and their magical properties.

  When she reached the top of the stairs, she slid to a stop and her jaw dropped. Ryan was sitting cross-legged on the floor. About a dozen books were piled around him. His hair was mussed, and his jaw was covered with a morning beard. She knew instinctively that he’d been up all night, but he didn’t look tired. If anything he looked . . .

  “Warlocklike?” he provided, grinning at her.

  That was exactly what he looked like, and she shook her head in confusion. Before she could think of what to say, he climbed to his feet. Her gaze automatically dropped to his bad leg. “Your kn
ee is okay!”

  “Yep,” he said, bending his knees slightly, as if to confirm the claim.

  “But how?” she asked, glancing up at him in bewilderment.

  “The wishing wand,” he answered.

  “You used the wishing wand again?” she exclaimed in horrified disbelief.

  “Hey, don’t get so uptight about it. It was necessary.”

  “Ryan, the wand works only if you have something painful to lose. Now it’s going to collect from you twice!”

  He frowned. “I considered that, Shana, and I came to the conclusion that I’ll probably have to lose a couple of bikes. I admit that it will be inconvenient, but it isn’t any big deal. Besides, as I said, it was necessary.”

  “What could possibly be so important that you’d risk using the wand again?” she demanded, knowing that the wand would never be satisfied with something as materialistic as a motorcycle.

  “You,” he answered simply.

  “Me?” she said, becoming even more bewildered.

  “Moira wants you dead, and there was no way I could help you fight her if I couldn’t walk.”

  “Ryan, that’s so . . . touching, but we’re dealing with magic. Evil magic. Your ability to walk isn’t going to help defeat Moira.”

  “I realize that,” he said. “That’s why I made the wish twofold.”

  “Twofold?” she repeated in trepidation.

  He nodded. “I not only wished to be physically whole. I also asked to be granted the magical skills needed to save you from Moira. The wand not only healed my knee. It gave me all the powers that a warlock possesses.”

  Shana stared at him, stunned. Then she shook her head in frantic denial. This couldn’t be happening!

  “Why are you so upset?” he asked irritably. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “Pleased?” she gasped. “It takes years of training to become an accomplished warlock. When you made that wish, did you also think to ask for the knowledge that goes along with those powers?”

  “Well, no,” he answered uncertainly. “But I did touch the amulet you gave me. You said it would grant me wisdom.”