Before they could lock lips again, they both passed out on the couch, spilling their drinks on each other. I knew how humiliated Rose would be. At least they weren’t acting like this in the bar for everyone to see. That would have been an initiate scandal for sure.
I was pacing the living room. Jaime and Rose were sleeping on the couch, wine glasses nestled in their hands, and Stan stood next to me. Maybe Gregory and Maddi thought it was funny because they didn’t know Rose. The sleeping Rose passed out on a purple couch was not the one I knew. At least Stan knew her well enough to understand that sexual magic was out of the question.
“Could this be a bigger mess?” I said to Stan. “How could you let this happen?”
“I didn’t,” he told me. “She did it to try and protect us.”
“I could have taken him,” Helaine said, “and it’s not like he would have stayed dead if I killed him. Rose knew that I could take care of myself, but she was worried about you.”
“I would have been fine,” Stan argued. I didn’t believe him.
“Tell her that when she wakes up.”
“I can tell you’re hurt,” he said softly.
“I expected myself to be the one rebelling once we got here, but you don’t know the half of what Rose has been up to since coming here. Every time she’s gotten herself into trouble since being here, she’s been able to get out of it. She ultimately makes her own decisions, but this time there was no way she could analyze anything. I’ve never seen her like this before, and we were minutes away from her regretting this whole situation the rest of her life. Her life and experiences aren’t your bloody game, Stan!”
Astonishment appeared across his face. It was new. He was always uninvolved and blunt, and just as Rose had, I took his emotionless demeanor for a weakness of his character.
“They’re not a game, and I feel just as bad about it. I might even feel worse.”
“You are in charge of someone’s life, not just their training. Don’t talk to Rose about passion anymore. She has the best sense of justice I have ever known and you need to focus on that.”
“I thought she could handle it.”
“You’re not always right, Stan,” I reminded him. “Maybe thinking is your strong suit, but not this time. I want you to remember this.”
“I will,” he said. “Let’s get that reversal spell. Have you ever dipped a candle before?”
“No,” I said.
“I’ll do it then.”
Stan went to the cauldron and the wax was ready. He fished a few wicks out of the cauldron.
I grabbed the book on the gods and goddesses and flipped to Brigid.
“You’ll also need to make her a craft unless you plan to lure her out some other way.”
“I don’t want to know what you mean by that,” I commented. “A craft?” There were pictures next to her name of woven crosses, and I knew I could replicate a poor rendition of one. “Is she sleeping in Rose?” I asked.
“Oh no, she is very much awake but can’t move without Rose.”
I was officially creeped out.
“You can see her?”
“I can see the astral plane, and that’s Brigid. I know it.”
“I thought Rose looked glowy. Oh ma déesse, is Brigid staring at me now? I’m going to grab some palm leaves from the conservatory and shut up.”
We crafted for an hour, and when we were done, we had to invite Brigid out of Rose.
Stan and I casted a circle around Rose and Jaime, calling the five elements to protect them, and sat next to them on the couch, placing the white candle on the coffee table. Stan lit it, and I would say the spell.
“Born of sun and hearths she lights, blessed Brigid we always invite. Protect our home with your flame, end winter’s perils that you tame. Spring is upon us with your gift, take our blessing and leave your shift. A change of season our fire does bring, leave our sister and bring us spring. Blessed be.”
I looked to Rose and her glow dissipated immediately.
“Did it work?” I asked Stan.
“Yes,” he said, his acidic tone making me feel as though I had asked a stupid question. “I’m surprised you can’t see the goddess’s energy more clearly.”
“I’m still surprised that you let this happen.”
Stan looked toward them.
“Leave him here,” I said of Jaime. “Help me get her upstairs.”
“I’ve got it,” he said, leaning down and picking her limp body up into his arms, tucking her head into his chest. I didn’t think he was that strong. “Helaine, I’m sorry.”
There was honesty in his eyes and a wrinkle in his forehead as he held my best friend close to him. She didn’t look heavy at all, but she did look peaceful. He was the mentor, not me, and I didn’t have the right to judge him for the choices he made out of confidence in her.
“I’m sorry too,” I said with humility. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, even if it was a teensy one. “Go to sleep.”
Stan turned, carefully ascending the stairs with Rose in his arms.
I fell down into the couch across from Jaime with a large sigh, tears welling up in my eyes. I wondered if Jaime would remember what happened, but with all of those chemical reactions that his heightened emotions caused, I wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up being a blackout.
The weirdest thing was that they were honestly happy, and watching the two of them in the living room together made me happy for them. Rose deserved that, but not when it was only due to powers. It was like watching someone else walking around in her and Jaime’s bodies. She was Brigid’s shift, a blue-headed shell of herself.
I let out a sigh trying to focus on what could possibly be good about this situation. Jaime would have no clue where he was when he woke up. At least that was bloody hilarious.
I left Jaime without a care and went up to the fourth floor to my room, exhausted and wanting to melt into my pillow. I decided to check in on Rose on my way.
The hallway light was off and her door was open.
I peeked in, and Stan was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hand in his.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said after a moment. “I’ll do better. That’s why we’re a Coven. We keep each other safe. You’re not alone. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He set her hand down and I took it as my cue to sneak up the stairs to the fourth floor as I heard his door shut.
I knew that I was scared for Rose, but I was also jealous, seeing her look at someone that way, even if it was Jaime. I wanted to feel that, and I knew I wanted to marry when I left the Coven, but it was all so far away. I knew all of the obstacles that filled that space might not give me the time to dwell on my future.
And if Stan told anyone I was checking out Jaime and his massive hard-on, he was a dead man.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Lesson Learned
Rose
The morning after Imbolc, my memories of the previous night were blurry around the edges as well as the middles, but I had no hangover. I knew I didn’t drink that much, per Stan’s instructions and the threat of piano torture, so I just supposed that I had made myself overtired from training so much. Twice a day was draining. Hell, so much time with Stan was draining.
Red wine was spilled all over my shirt, and my mouth tasted ashy, like fire… or cigarettes. I wasn’t sure. My clothes smelled so absofriggenloutely amazing—like citrus and liquor—that I almost wanted to taste them, but even I wasn’t quite that weird. Such an alluring smell should have been linked to some memory of mine, and that was the third sign that something was off.
After I dressed, I realized that Stan was awake. His door was open, so I peeked in.
“What are we learning today?” I asked from the doorway.
“That depends on what you remember from last night,” he said, stepping outside of his room. “Let’s go downstairs.”
I felt fine. I had passed out in
my clothes, but I would often do that while reading a good book. Then I saw Jaime sleeping on the couch and it all came back, up until our walk home.
“There’s a reversal spell we need to review,” Stan said.
I could feel an unmistakable blush marking my face.
“I trust that you and Helaine stopped this before it got too bad.”
“Avereis, if you don’t remember much, he won’t. Then, it’s just a training exercise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Stan said. “It was similar to other possessions we’ve seen. The subjects don’t remember anything and don’t have to take responsibility for it either. Helaine said your toes would blush if I repeated anything he told you last night.”
“Well, what did he say?!”
“I might be social inept sometimes, but I’m not a dumb enough to actually tell you. Everything is okay, and you know I don’t lie to make others feel better.”
“I do. So let’s review.”
Stan opened the book in the conservatory and went step by step, explaining what happened last night. I didn’t even remember kissing Jaime—though the thought of it made my eyes squint. Stan assured me that was all that happened, and we weren’t anywhere alone the whole time. I took solace in waking up in my clothes from the night before.
“I could never imagine someone as jealous as Jaime being an exhibitionist,” I said with a roll to my eyes. “Hey look at me, I’m becoming less coy and more accepting of the facts of life. I think that exercise did help.”
“You don’t have to try and make me feel better,” Stan reminded me.
“What do we do when he wakes up?” I snickered.
“A debriefing.”
“Let’s make him think he’s been deported back to Canada first,” I said slyly.
“You find this funny now?” Stan asked.
“Yes. I told you that I have full faith in you and Helaine.”
Stan smiled meekly. His expression was either endearing or cute, and I couldn’t decide which.
“We are not attempting that again.”
I liked how Stan said “we” as if he owned up to having me take on more than I could handle.
“I can handle anything now,” I said.
“One thing at a time,” Stan reminded me. “We also need to go over the attainment that you unlocked.”
“I unlocked an attainment last night? Even though this was a mess?”
“You invoked a goddess, Brigid.”
“A… Oh,” I said, “and mixed with my empath powers, that had to have been why everything was so…” I bit my lip.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“Well hopefully next time I do that so publicly I actually like the guy. That would help the embarrassment factor.”
“I told you. Don’t be embarrassed around me,” Stan reminded me. “You can tell me anything, okay?”
“Okay.” Was his statement or last night weirder? “Now that you have proof that I trust you, maybe you should work on trusting me?”
His mouth was parted but he lost his words, and I knew what that meant. Stan still had a long way to go before he could trust another human being.
“Jaime’s awake,” he stated.
I swallowed hard.
Oh goody.
Jaime walked into the kitchen, hair messier than usual, a confused look plastered to his face. When he saw me and Stan in the conservatory he was less confused.
I had kissed him. Repeatedly. Oh, Goddess.
“Did we have a sleepover?” Jaime asked.
“You and the couch did,” I answered back. “Look, there was a training exercise that went a little out of control at Seven’s last night, but everything’s fine.”
“Training exercise…?”
“Everything is fine,” Stan echoed, though I could tell Jaime annoyed him as much as he annoyed Helaine.
“Did you drug me?” Jaime asked us.
Stan and I exchanged stuttering vowels.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I said. “Nothing happened between us—”
“Whatever you say, Rose,” he said with a smirk.
“I have no reason to lie about it.”
“This ‘us’ sounds a lot like you and me were together last night.” He smoothed his pointer finger over his mouth, trying to discern if I had been there, and I just about cringed, verifying that I had been. “If it was that good I would have remembered.” I was silent, trying to talk myself out of being horrified. “I’m joking,” he said, his crystal eyes getting wide, broad shoulders shrugging. “No harm done, eh?”
“Eh.” I smiled back. Was he really going to be that easygoing and Canadian about the whole thing?
“I don’t want anyone to know I was here with you guys anyway,” Jaime told us. “I’m supposed to have an aversion to authority and no one can see me leaving. We need to appear to be cool outside of here, but not this comfortable.”
“If you leave quickly no one will notice,” Stan told him. “Thank you for your participation.”
“Never again,” he said, walking back into the living room toward the only exit.
Stan stood up and poured me a cup of coffee first, setting it down in front of me where I sat at the island. I thanked him and then stared at my reflection in the stark black brew. No harm done.
I was surely obeying the Wiccan Rede… if my own ego didn’t count.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Attic Room
Helaine
Reminiscent of our good old house arrest days, Rose and I were the only witches home. We were practicing nunchucks out in the garden wearing light jackets. I had just graduated from foam to wood about a year ago, and Rose had “borrowed” a metal pair from her house. One slip of your finger meant an elbow bruise, or sometimes a lump on your head that would last days. Wearing our hair in low buns on our necks seemed to help cushion any blows (Rose called it a nun-bun-chuck) and we had been making progress. We were supposed to be training our powers together, but fifteen minutes of weapons never hurt anyone, and I was determined to show her how martial arts was helping me with my element.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rose asked me, but her answer was in the curious way she flicked her lighter to set her metal chucks on fire. I watched them light up, an orange and yellow glow kept in place by magic and contained by the element of air. She put her right glove back on after that.
“Fire and metal nunchucks are the best idea I’ve heard all day. Just keep them away from your hair.”
I concentrated on my power, and water surrounded the wood on mine. Water didn’t look as cool. With each movement, a little trailed behind, falling from the rippling surface. I felt a welcome mist on my face as they turned. Our goal was to feel our elements incorporate with air. I could feel the chill of the late winter breeze floating freely around us.
Rose kept her weapon steady. She wouldn’t take up two at once like what she was used to. When she tossed her weapon above her for a catch, the air fed the orange flame, causing it to turn her trademark blue. She shrugged at me and kept up with a figure eight.
Mine flew up high and the response was a crash of glass.
“They can go that high?” I asked. “It must be my powers—”
Water crashed down on my head, drenching me, but my nunchucks didn’t come with it. As we looked up, we gathered that they were stuck behind the broken window.
“We better fix it before they get back. Which room is it?” Rose asked me.
“It’s the attic…” I said.
Rose knew what it meant for me, and took off first into the house as I started to wring my hair out with my hands.
The lot of us non-verbally agreed that we should stay out of each other’s rooms, but Rose and I didn’t want to get in trouble for smashing a window, and no one wanted to come home to see that their personal space had been destroyed.
I grabbed the Simple Spell Book on the way. I had read a repair spell in it before.
“All we have to do is clean up the mess and magically repair the window before they get home,” I told Rose on our way up the stairs. “Plus the door’s cracked open, see, almost if the house was expecting us.”
It was like the blue globe on the spell cabinet or the pink book in the spell room. The door seemed to have an energy of its own, but glancing at Rose, I knew she couldn’t feel it. Was it my water intuition, or was it something else?
I opened the door to reveal steep stairs with a tweed runner draped over their hardwood. I ascended them carefully, and the scene waiting at the top of them took my breath away.
There was something drawn on the wall above Gregory’s couch, and it radiated a magnetic power I hadn’t ever felt to this capacity.
“Rose,” I said, stopping. “My mum drew this mural.”
The vines and flowers matched my mum’s tattoo, a beautiful earth-inspired design that stretched all the way onto the ceiling. I saw combinations of colors splayed in harmony and contrast, and any color I could think to see stretched from the wall and onto the ceiling to shape into a compass rose.
“You think she would have told me…”
Rose was still looking up. It was a gigantic room that could have served as its very own flat. Gregory even had a three-quarter bathroom, which left me with my own on the fourth floor.
“Welcome to Gregory’s spliff-smelling, gaming cave.” I looked over to the blue-green hand blown glassware on his bedside table. The unmistakable smell got thicker in the air with the moment. “That’s definitely not all incense, but it is why he likes candles so much.”
“I’m sure he’d be uncomfortable with us initiates up in his personal space, though, he is a bit neater than I thought he’d be. They’ll be home soon,” Rose said. “I’ll pick up the glass. You do the spell.”
When we cleaned up the broken glass and fixed my weapons mishap, I was the one to shut the door to the attic. I knew I should have taken a picture to remember the mural by, but it was too late.
I left the door cracked as we had found it, but as soon as we turned our backs it slammed shut.
Death's Primordial Kiss (The Silvered Moon Diaries Book 1) Page 28
