“He’s special,” she said.
“Well, so is Brittany, and we just have to deal with it as it comes.”
“Cheers to that,” she said, and with a wry smile, grabbed my margarita to drink it.
“I’ll get the bill,” I told her.
“What, no. You can’t even eat your food.”
“Shut up, it’s your birthday.” I looked around, as suspicious as I was when I first sipped on my marg. “I mean… it’s a regular Taco Thursday.”
When we got home, Gregory was doing paperwork at the dining room table, drinking a beer. It must have been nice.
“My powers have been awakened,” I said dramatically.
“And that means?” He put down his pen and turned to me.
“My element has linked with taste, and I am bloody confused.”
“Really, that’s great!” he went for a high five and I returned it.
“Is it normal?”
“Yes, it happens to water witches more than any other element. And now, we learn about elixirs.”
Gregory handed me a thick, green book, and told me everything I’d need was in there.
“There is an elixir you can make to dull taste. You just put a drop of it on your tongue before you eat something that’s too spicy or sour. I don’t want to disappoint you, but your life is never going to be the same again.”
“Menacing…” Rose commented. She’d been tipsy the whole way home.
“It’s true. Unless you give up your powers completely, this is life.”
“I must be able to use it to my advantage in some way then.”
“I think you can, and I’d like to share something with you for when I’m gone.”
My heart sped up, and I got the worst chills of my life.
“What exactly do you mean?” I beamed with excitement as if he just told me that I was fully inducted and didn’t have to complete any more trials.
“You have the perfect opportunity to connect earth to your powers. Avereis, you should hear this too.”
We sat down at the table, and though I felt like I was at a job interview, Gregory assuaged that impression by grabbing us beers. I hesitantly looked at mine.
“My gift power works through touch. When I pick up any object, I can see the last person who touched it, and usually, the last place it had been, or its history. It’s serious cross-dimensional magic, and it only works in my head, as most gift powers do.”
“And somehow my integration can work like your gift power?”
“Yes. I might as well teach you since there is no way out of it. Water has chosen you.”
My heart swelled at those words. This was much better than waiting for “I love you,” from a man. Maybe not from Gregory, but I hadn’t decided.
“So you’re saying I can taste something to gain its memories?”
“You can taste something to see its place of origin or its chemical composition.”
“Like a microscope, but in my mouth?”
If I looked horrified it’s because I was.
“A strand of hair, an oily fingerprint, a thread of fabric. All things come from organic organisms or the earth. You could pinpoint a location or identity. That’s how I’d use the integration if I were you, where I would train first.”
The prospect of turning my mouth into a science lab intrigued me, but would it ruin everything else? What about fancy dinners, frozen yogurt, or the salt on someone’s skin? I was forfeiting simple pleasures in life to become analytical, as cold as ice to everything I once enjoyed.
“If it means solving crimes… I’m all for it.”
“This elixir is simple. You add ingredients, bring to a boil, and then freeze. After it thaws, you can carry it with you. It will dull the taste of anything too spicy or sweet.”
As I mixed and boiled, I dwelled on the fact that I was making a medicine I would need to take the rest of my life. Gregory and Rose got quiet and could tell I wasn’t taking the news of my integration as well as I thought I would.
When we left the kitchen to go to sleep, and Rose turned to me before she shut her bedroom door.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “I am fine. I integrated, and that’s what I wanted so badly.”
“Helaine, when my powers integrated it expanded on what I had been experiencing my whole entire life. You have the chance to learn something completely new. It’s not going to be comfortable, but it’s a sign of progress. Water trusts you with this. Trust yourself too.”
I smiled in thanks, but I was still far more preoccupied than I should have been.
After I climbed up the second to last flight of stairs in the mews house to retire to my bedroom, not even the Feng Shui could balance what I was feeling.
I shut the heavy curtains on my four poster bed and settled into an uncertain darkness.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The Middle of the Night
Rose
Ignoring it wasn’t an option. I could feel my pulse through every part of my body, a steady beating that was strong and capable. It was innate and powerful, fueled by the sparks of desire and the heat of fire. It made me feel strong and capable too. Even though I didn’t remember the fire goddess, I knew this must have been was it was like to have her power thrumming through my body. I wasn’t guilty at all for wanting this.
Our soft lips collided. I felt his chest pressed against mine and the warmth of his mouth feeding into my quick, unwavering pulse.
I saw his eyes flicker open, and my face reflected back to me inside of dark green. My eyes were mere violet glints in his pupils. I wanted to feel his lips again and smell his skin when I kissed his neck. Why had he opened his eyes?
Was something wrong?
I looked around, trying to lift myself out of my own body to get a good look at my surroundings, but it was hazy and dark. I could do without feeling hazy, but the brightness between us, the light inside was all we needed.
I looked past him, and the place was a familiar mix of suede brown and a spectrum of blues, my room perhaps?
Definitely my room.
As the room came into clearer view, I was suddenly more aware of the weight my bodily shell trapped me in, the softness behind my head, and the angle in which I looked up at him.
The two of us in the observatory was normal, but he had never been up in my room.
I leaped up in bed, waking myself up as my feet struggled against the blankets. This time I wasn’t able to fight off the dreams. We had done a reversal on my Imbolc spell, but my powers were still off.
Panic was what I felt now, and that happened sometimes when I tried to push an emotion away too quickly. The abrupt displacement of desire made me feel uneven, quickening my pulse even more so. My power ran through my veins, my blood, and I was sure that my fast heartbeat couldn’t lead to anything good. With a wave of my hand, I illuminated the candles in my room.
I felt tired enough to cry but there were no tears available. I reached to my bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lavender. Aunt Jen told me it was sourced from France, the purest variety. I put a drop in the palm of my hand and heated it up with a small orange flame that warmed the scent and didn’t burn my skin. I had more control than I ever remembered having. I breathed it in, and my mixed up emotions began sorting themselves out.
I was starting to dread having to go back to sleep. I looked at the wilting pink rose on top of my dresser.
I wanted to talk to someone, but talking to either of my two mentors wasn’t happening. I stared at my flame and imagined my conversations with them.
I could go talk to my dad about my empath powers. That would go wonderfully. “Hey dad, I’m having these dreams about a boy. They’re pretty physical and I’m at risk of becoming one of those self-indulgent Dionysian cult empaths. How do I stop them?” No thanks.
I could talk to my mentor in the Coven about it. “Hey Stan, I’m having these crazy wonderful dreams about you and how you’re a great kisser and how incredibly responsiv
e your body is to mine.” That sounded even better. That made me blush, and my pulse nearly explode. Was I just sleepy or was I drunk off of my hormones?
I closed my eyes and breathed in and out in long bursts before I got to my feet. I looked back at my bed, thinking of how stupid my dream was, thankful that the details were already fading. Still, there was no falling back asleep.
It was nearly eight, which meant I got a good four hours of rest before the dreams took over. I wandered to the bathroom and took a cold shower, trying to think of how I could tell Helaine about my powers problem without it sounding like I was physically attracted to Stan. Which I totally wasn’t.
But one thing I had to admit was that Stan was a challenge, whether or not I tried to deny it, and though it was the fire inside of me, he had been intriguing since day one. Why, universe, why?
I let the coldness of the water run down my body, remembering when I only had to do this after long sparring matches in sweaty gear, or jujitsu classes. I knew this would be the most challenging year of my life, but I didn’t expect to feel this helpless against my desires. I didn’t get out of the water until I was shivering.
Maybe it wasn’t my powers that were out of control. Maybe someone was manipulating my dreams. I knew that Spriggan, like Bliss, could. Not to say that Bliss was suspect, but I knew I could have angered another Spriggan when I made the Coven. Our supernatural vendettas could go back decades—if not hundreds of years.
Afraid to go back to sleep, I read one of my books in my room awhile, and then wandered to the kitchen for a smoothie, and to pick at our last takeaway leftovers. I sat at the kitchen island with a book on Spriggans. It had made it back from the Ember’s Den before the library had been completely destroyed by two bookworms who were madly in love.
“Good afternoon,” Stan said.
I couldn’t ignore him, not with the strange excitement still left from the dreams, but before I could say anything, his attention was already off of me. It would be easier than I thought to ignore my whacked-out id. I silently watched him walk over to the coffee pot. He had on jeans and a black sweatshirt. I was happy that it wasn’t the green one that matched his eyes. Oh… his eyes.
My dream was so real. I remembered seeing myself trapped in his green irises. I had never met a boy with green eyes, not before him.
“No coffee?” he asked.
“I didn’t sleep well. You’ll have to make some.”
“Elemental training today?” he asked me, preparing the brew.
“Sure,” I nearly stuttered. His eyes were beautiful, and they looked pastel green in the afternoon light that filtered through the skylight into the kitchen.
What am I doing?
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said out loud.
“What do you have there?” Stan asked, his long black lashes looking towards my book now.
“My book?”
He came around to my side of the island. I could smell the shampoo in his damp hair. It didn’t look damp—it was so dark that it was impossible to tell—but my senses said otherwise. It was a cedary, spicy smell, akin to autumn, the season I was initiated during. I didn’t remember him smelling like anything in my dream, and that helped to distance dream Stan, who I was sure at this point was probably just my subconscious, my id, anyway.
“I’m just reading,” I said, going to shut the book. Our fingers touched as he kept me from closing the text. Mentors thought they had every right to pry open a closing book.
“Spriggans? Are you having nightmares?”
There were his eyes again, but this time they narrowed, intent on solving a mystery, and not trying to read my thoughts.
“Yes,” I admitted, putting my hand in my lap, refusing to touch Stan.
“How many.”
“Too many,” I answered.
He studied me a moment which made me nervous, and then he backed away.
“Unless you know a Spriggan personally, I don’t think that’s what causing your nightmares.”
“You’re probably right,” I said. “Courtyard?”
He nodded.
I grabbed my gloves and we shuffled out to the courtyard without dwelling on my dreams. I was glad that Stan let things go, that things only interested him for a short period of time.
“You really need to gain control of orange fire, Avereis.” He set his thermos down on the patio table.
“I know,” I sighed. “I need to be able to control the temperature to avoid burning myself until I become fully fireproof.”
I opened my palm, blue fire floating a few inches above it. The warmth always made me feel good, which was a wonderful parlor trick, but not so useful when defending the city was your priority. I loved the blue, but I knew that blue wasn’t what he wanted to see. Little did he know, I had been practicing without him.
I needed a boost, so I tapped into my dream, guilty replaying it in my head, void of any clear statements or worded thoughts. His hands. His lips. His eyes. All far too perfect and unrealistic. When I opened my eyes, the fire in my hand was orange.
“Well done,” Stan said back. “That’s brilliant.”
I grew the beautiful, passion-fueled fire bigger in my hands. It was pure energy.
“How did you do that?”
“I think my powers are growing,” I responded, turning the fire into a ring. I closed my eyes again, making a circle of orange fire to span the area of the courtyard, motioning with one hand to lift it overhead. Stan looked at it in awe.
I broke my stare on the fire to smile at him, and the ring came crashing down, raining flames and sparks on the courtyard. I dodged one of the bigger falling flames, but two smaller embers hit the barrier of my flame-retardant clothes, and I patted them out with my glove.
The grass growing between the cobblestone caught fire and started smoking. Our furniture started to smolder. I iced it over with a wave of my hand and looked at Stan to say sorry.
His black hoodie was burning on the ground.
I had caught him on fire.
The last time my powers malfunctioned I had interrupted my gaze on the energy, and I should have known better. Everything was perfect until someone watched, and then I’d mess up.
Stan put the flames out by stomping on the sweatshirt’s sleeve and then looked back at me, to which I remembered the muscular arms he had been hiding underneath a hoodie all winter. Perhaps his layers were endless. I cleared all thoughts from my head and lamented the dreams this would bring me.
“Explain.”
Stan stared back at me, draping his burnt sweatshirt over his right arm. I hoped his arm was okay, and that he wasn’t concealing a burn as well. His t-shirt was green and accentuated his eyes, as well as the broadness of his shoulders. He looked perfect, without overdoing things at the gym like some guys. He looked exactly like the guy I spent last night with.
“It’s fire. It’s combustible!” I shouted.
“We’re done for the day,” Stan informed me. “I suggest you figure this out, Avereis.”
Anger will only kill the fire, he reminded me.
You think I wanted to hurt you? I asked, but he only turned away.
I watched him walk back inside.
My powers were out of control, so much that I was starting to hurt people—a stark contrast for a girl who spent her life learning when not to hurt someone.
Giving myself over to the dreams had created more energy than I could handle. Fire was changing my identity. I could deal with external emotions fine, but internal ones? My ego and id were battling, and the superego I usually wore around was in hiding. For the first time since joining the Coven, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The Truth is Out There
Helaine
The lava-like glow of the ascending sun cast an orange shadow over the courtyard and wood grain of our practice swords. Rose knew two more forms than me, and I figured I’d better catch up. I too had been attending class, but not as fre
quently as Rose still did, and I had to admit that I was falling behind.
I loved my blunt and beat up sword, and my priority was always making it swish crisply through the space in front of me.
We took a break when the sun went down, sipping on lavender lemonade in the courtyard. Dinner was only a few hours away.
I had been dulling my powers instead of full on practicing my taste integration, and my lemonade tasted like water. I could still smell the lavender though.
“Stan is really sulking about today,” I told Rose. “And without his jacket on too.”
“What do you mean?” She asked me innocently.
“He puts more than enough time into working out and should not be hiding all of that under long sleeves. Never did I think he’d look like that.”
“Stop it. That’s my mentor,” Rose warned me lightly, laughing.
“Maybe, but he’s also our peer.”
She giggled again, and we drank a few more sips of our lemonade.
“He’s too quiet for you anyway,” Rose reminded me. I nodded. She could tell I didn’t like him, but it wasn’t like I was refusing to appreciate him. I’d never.
“I guess he’s going to the gym to do shoulder shrugs at one a.m., another Stan mystery solved. Maybe he’ll let you go with if you ask,” I said.
“I’d rather continue training with you. I’m with him all of the time and need a break. Eight p.m. to three a.m. is my time, Stan free.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I lit him on fire today.”
“On accident?”
“No, I decided I wanted him dead,” she said seriously. “Of course on accident! I got distracted.”
“That’s a sure fire way to not make it to the coronation,” I reminded her. “Oh no, I’m turning into Onyx!” I giggled, slaphappy, and promised myself that I would stop using puns. “What’s gotten into you?”
“My element,” she shrugged.
“Is he angry?”
“I think,” Rose said, “I don’t know. I don’t catch much emotion off of him.”
“He’s a character alright, very mysterious…”
Death's Primordial Kiss (The Silvered Moon Diaries Book 1) Page 31
