Cantrips: Volume #2: Minor Magics Crafted to Amuse and Entertain

by Joey W. Hill

  Rising now, she came to him and took his hand. Without the shoes, she’d lost several inches, but it didn’t diminish her. If anything, the energy pulsing around her surrounded him, held his attention. “Sometimes I think that is the greatest gift Christmas brings us, my son,” she said. “A slowing of time, an awareness of the value of simple things. Like being able to touch my son’s face, see his handsomeness, his determination and generous heart there. As well as the regret when he knows he’s let his temper get the best of him. When he doesn’t know how to fix things with his friends, his family, those he loves.”

  He bowed his head, pressing his face into her palm. “Any advice?” he said glumly. “I don’t have much pride left tonight. Might as well give asking advice a try.”

  “A true last resort for a vampire,” she said, with a half smile. “I think you already know the answer. It’s easy to talk about how the world should change, but how can you change, Kane? How can you give and sacrifice to make the world a better place?”

  “Vampires don’t give and sacrifice. We demand and take.”

  Lyssa chuckled. “We are arrogant, selfish, powerful. But those are also strengths when it comes to making things better. We demand justice. We take away power from those who don’t deserve it. And we are more than that, more than one thing. You can be selfless, kind. You wouldn’t be angry tonight if that wasn’t as much a part of you as all the rest.”

  Her gaze softened upon him. “Look into your heart. Change starts there, with your own actions.”

  He wanted to argue with her some more. It would be easier than taking the mirror she’d just handed him and looking at the image he knew she was referencing. “You’re talking about John.”

  “Ignoring and pretending a choice isn’t there can be just as bad as forbidding that course of action outright, especially when the heart you’re ignoring belongs to someone who loves you. Do you think letting him go halfway across the world will be easy for his grandfather? Ingram is getting close to eighty now. John will come home periodically, but it is likely Elijah will pass from this world when John is far away.”

  “If he’d just let you mark him, he could prolong his life.”

  “Yes, he could. But that was not his choice. Elijah misses his wife too much. The last time I offered him the choice of third mark, he told me his wife would be expecting him in a certain amount of time, and he couldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t keep her waiting longer than that.” She returned to the window seat, crossed her legs. “He also told me that John was on a good path, and his job there was done. He’d done what a grandfather, parent or guardian was supposed to do. Make sure John is a responsible, good man who can take care of himself and will have plenty of love and gifts to give to others. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, I would. He’s…” Kane grimaced, his chest tight all of a sudden. “He’s a better man than I am.”

  “No.” She shook her head, her jade eyes warm on him. “He’s a very good man, but so is my son. John wouldn’t be so devoted to you otherwise. Do you know what Elijah said about his wife? It touched me, so I remembered it exactly. ‘I want my wife’s arms around me once more. We had to walk our separate ways awhile, while I did the things I’m supposed to do. That’s what life’s about, doing what you need to do, so when you come together again, the time is right. No regrets and you’ve earned the rest.”

  She shifted, crossing her legs. “He said he had to be sure he’d earned having her arms around him. Anything else and he said she’d give him hell there at Heaven’s gate. Probably send him right back down to finish things, even if he had to do it as a damn zombie.”

  Kane gave a half chuckle. “Sounds like him. Sounds a lot like his son, too.”

  She nodded. “But it’s that way, with those we love. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. But understanding and wanting to act on that understanding are two different things.”

  Her lips curved. “You are always honest, my son. But like Ingram, I know that your father and I have done what we are supposed to do. You are a good man.”

  “But not yet one who can take care of himself.”

  She shrugged. “There are times in our lives when none of us can care for ourselves alone. We need the guidance, love, support and yes, sometimes the rescue, of those who care about us. That is a gift, my son, not a burden. And yes, a young vampire has to endure that care for longer than a human male, but your compensation is a much longer life span. You understand that, but resist its yoke. Every born vampire has been where you are. You think I did not chafe at restrictions in my twenties?”

  “Or Mason?”

  Her gaze darkened. “Mason lost his parents young and fell into the wrong hands, my son. He understands firsthand what happens to a young male vampire without the proper guidance.”

  She beckoned him to her, more imperious now. Rising, she put her hand back on his face. “Patience is a great sacrifice to ask of a young vampire male, but it is patience I require of you. You have always understood that, but perhaps after tonight you understand better?”

  “Yes.” He nodded, and meant it. “I understand.”

  “I know you do.”

  As he kissed her hand, she touched his head, a mother’s benediction, containing forgiveness and wisdom both. “How was the symphony?” he asked.

  “Lovely. But not as good as the orchestra I heard play the same repertoire in the eighteen hundreds. Older is not always better.”

  He smiled. “But most the time it is.”

  She snorted at him, gave him a push. “Impatient boy. Begone. I want to replay a few of the pieces in my head.”

  She curled back up into the window seat, this time where she could gaze out the window, watching the dogs and the Christmas lights. It was a gentle dismissal, so he touched her shoulder and moved to the door. He didn’t expect her to speak again, so was surprised when she did, just as he was reaching for the latch.

  “Son?”

  “Yes, mother?”

  "I love you more than the sun and the moon. You know this?”

  “Yes, I do.” He knew it for a fact, was glad for it. She nodded, her gaze still trained on something outside, though her next words told him her attention was fully upon him. Like a spear through the heart.

  “Do not ever let me see disrespect for your father in your thoughts again. If you’d spoken those words aloud, I would have put a stake up your backside and yanked it out. You could have spent the next few days trying to figure out how to remove the splinters."

  Now she turned her head toward him, and he saw something different in her eyes. Her expression spawned more than a dozen memories of his father through his mind. The things Jacob had been and done for both of them. Kane realized he’d disappointed her and, even worse, he’d hurt her. Crossing the room to come back to her, he did something he’d never done before. He dropped to a knee, bent and lifted the hem of her skirt, pressing his lips to it. “My lady," he said, "I have done something unforgivable, to you both. How do I make it right?"

  Her green gaze was timeless, and he saw a glimpse of many things. Fierce love, which he knew was for both him and his father, as well as the shadows of wisdom and pain. But her expression eased enough that the barbs coiled tight in his gut loosened. "Go to him and tell him you love him,” she said quietly. “And that you're sorry. We know you, Kane. One thoughtless moment cannot erase all the good we know is in your heart. And your father has always been far more forgiving than I am.”

  “You’re telling me.” He let humor come back to the surface, holding his breath until she flicked his ear.

  “Impudent rascal. Now I do want you to go. Send your father back to me when you’re done.”

  Rising to his feet, he cleared his throat. “I feel I should also ask Lord Mason’s pardon. Would now be a good time?”

  “Hmm.” She sobered. “He understands his daughter is an adult, Kane. She chose to go with you. She is likely even now berating him for being too heavy-handed toward you and
John. But vampire males have their own code, as your desire to seek his absolution shows. He will appreciate it, but I believe he will appreciate it more tomorrow night.”

  “As always, I defer to your wisdom, my lady.”

  She snorted, flicked his ear again, and sent him on his way.

  * * *

  Farida had chided her father for his coolness toward Kane, but after the brush with the Trad, she couldn’t push the suit too hard. Her mother’s counsel, not so much spoken as indicated with a discreet nod toward the door, had said her father would need some time to settle from the events of the evening. Older vampires tended to need their long silences, their minds traveling places probably unfathomable to those who were centuries younger, but she and her mother both understood those silences. Many times growing up, Farida had curled up in his lap, reading or dozing, not needing him to say anything, just cognizant of his arm loosely around her, the strength of him surrounding her. She thought with particular fondness on the times he’d held both her and her mother in his lap, the two of them talking about anything…the horses, a pending trip, the color Farida was going to paint her nails. He listened, smiled occasionally, said little, but she never felt ignored. If anything, sitting in his lap, she’d always been certain she was the center of his universe, her and Jessica.

  Sometimes, that could be a pain in the ass, but it was one she never took for granted. So, heeding her mother’s advice, she’d given him a hug, told him she loved him and then slipped away.

  She hadn’t been sure of her destination until she found herself standing outside the door to Kane’s suite of rooms. When she knocked and heard him grunt in acknowledgment, she smiled and slipped inside.

  He was sprawled out in an occasional chair before a lit fire place, staring at the flames. Though he seemed to be brooding, his gaze cut to her immediately, making her heart trip. Yes, vampires were all dominant, but when she was with him, alone like this, it was always clear there were some more dominant than others. For all that she held her own with him, there were times that hold was merely fingertips on the edge of a cliff. The look in his eyes right now added to that trepidation, so she responded as she always did to uncertainty. Straightening her back, she lifted her chin and gave him a faintly amused, “what the hell do you think you’re looking at?” expression.

  He extended a hand, palm up, and she came to him. When she did, he closed his hand over hers, drew her forward until she realized his intent was to pull her into his lap. She would have tumbled over the chair arm, but he controlled the movement, turning her with a smooth flow like water. She curled up there, nestling her backside into the nice firmness of his groin, and braced her feet on the chair arm, putting her arms around his neck.

  She wanted to ask if things had gone badly with his mother, but that sounded like a child’s question to another child. Did you get in trouble? Something about his pensive expression, the way he looked at her, made her feel quiet, as if she were dealing with a different person than she had earlier in the night.

  “I have to let him go. Don’t I, Rida?”

  She noticed his eyes had transformed to the one green, one blue. She’d noticed that early in their relationship, the way the hues would change. Sometimes all blue, sometimes all green, sometimes a wild mix. They had been like that at the mall, she remembered, when he’d been watching the water display.

  “Yes.” A simple answer seemed best. She knew he was talking about John.

  He nodded. His gaze roved over her face in that way that made everything inside go still. Winding his fingers in her hair, he slowly pulled on it until she dropped her head back, shuddering as he brought his lips to her throat. He teased her with a puncture, a slow draw of her blood. Then his mouth found hers, her lips parting as he drew the kiss out, stroking her cheek with his long, clever fingers. She emitted a low growl-purr when his fingers closed over her throat.

  “You’ve never had a man, have you, Rida?”

  She raised a brow, trying to hide the tremor in her fingers. “You’ve never asked that before.”

  “I didn’t want to know the answer.”

  “Kane.” She touched his face. He turned it toward her palm, biting the heel of her hand, then those brilliant eyes were on her face.

  “Want to see what I can do?”

  She nodded. “Always.”

  He smiled and gestured toward the flames. When she looked over her shoulder at the fire, he started tapping a pattern on her thigh as if he were playing piano keys. The touch was distracting, but she caught the motion in the fire. A key pressed down, a flame leaped up. Then a hard tap, a higher leap. She narrowed her gaze. “Kane…”

  She drew in a breath as the fire stretched up higher, spilled out of the grate and spread out over the floor in thin rivulets without burning it, leaping up like dancing snakes as he raised his hand. As he rotated his fingers, they twisted into one funnel, became a burning rope that reached for her. He clasped her wrist, extending her arm toward it. She watched in amazement and no fear as the rope twined around her wrist, replacing his hand. There was heat and weight, but no burn. Then it slipped away, melting back into the fireplace. And his hand gripped her wrist once more, tightening.

  “I want to be the first inside of you, Rida.”

  She looked up to find his face very close. His other hand cupped her jaw. As her lips parted, now she let him feel the tremor that captured her. Bringing her closer, he spoke against her mouth. “I will be the first inside you. Say it.”

  She nipped at his lip, drawing some blood, and earned his growl as his hand tightened in her hair. Yes, bloodlust could be provoked, but it could also become something else.

  “Yes. You will,” she murmured. “But why now? I thought you always wanted to wait until…”

  “Until I didn’t feel like I had a babysitter. I realized tonight a lot of that is my own hang up. I don’t want to wait anymore. Too much is changing. I look at John, and he’s the other half of my brain, my courage, my sense of honor. I look at you and see the reasons I want to be smart, brave and honorable.”

  He took a breath, met her gaze. “Which means I have to let you both go for awhile, to figure out if I can stand without you. And to make sure I’m not standing in the way of who both of you want to be. How you want to love and live.”

  Feeling a frisson of panic, of worry, she tried to give him a haughty look. “You don’t have to let me go to do that. Get over yourself.”

  “I think there’s something in you that…waits for my permission.” His hand tightened on her when she started to be affronted. “I don’t mean that with any arrogance, Rida. I mean it. It’s something inside us, between us. And when you do it, Christ…” His eyes held a flame that took her breath. “I never want to let you go. But tonight, I realized just how incredibly precious you are to me.”

  Her heart softened, lurched. “Kane…”

  He shook his head. “If there comes a time you give me the precious gift of yourself, on every level, I want it to be because you know that’s the decision you want to make, not because we were caught up in some transition, growing-up type of feelings. I’m not sure of anything else in the world, but I’m absolutely sure you’re worth waiting for. You are, forever, my first love. You’ll probably be my last, when we’re coming down to the end of things, but we have a ways to go between then and now to figure everything out, right?”

  “All right, what have you done with Kane? The insensitive jerk, my impatient best friend?” A bit overwhelmed despite her attempt at humor, she touched his face again. He recaptured her hand, held it between them.

  “He’s still here. I’m a vampire, after all. I’m not going to let you go without taking something for myself. Which is why I’m going to be the first.”

  That blue and green color deepened, his lips curving in a smile. She swallowed, lifted her chin again. She knew she couldn’t mask her nervousness, and usually he’d look amused by it. She’d smack him for it, they’d wrestle, the moment would pass. But no
t this time. What was happening right now wasn’t childhood play.

  She wasn’t a child. She wanted him to be first, the choice just as much hers as his. So she lifted her arms to him, her eyes luminous, her mouth soft. With a surge of strength, he rose from the seat, holding her in his arms, carrying her. He’d hauled her over his shoulder before, more childhood wrestling, but this was the first time she remembered him carrying her the way a lover would. He brought her in front of the fire, held her there, looking at her a long moment before he stretched her out on the rug, putting her beneath him. As he lowered himself onto her body, she shuddered at the new feeling. They were both still clothed, but it was also the first time she’d felt the full length of him like this.

  She knew they were young for vampires, that they could live for centuries, but she wondered if anything could feel as amazing as this. If anything would ever immerse her the way his touch, the weight of him, the hunger in his eyes, did.

  He’d just made clear that he understood all that they would be, where they might go, how their paths might split, but he’d finally – finally – decided to claim this marker, the one no other would possess, to connect them. Whatever had changed tonight, shifted in his mind, she thanked all the divine powers for it.

  She was still wearing the T-shirt and jeans she’d worn to the mall, but she’d removed the cap and loosened her hair so it flowed over her shoulders. Lifting her up enough to remove the shirt and then lowering her back to the rug, he stared at her quivering breasts, cradled in black lace. Then his mouth was on them, his hands drifting through her hair, stroking it, bringing it tumbling back against her shoulders, her upper arms. As he kissed his way in a leisurely track over her breasts, she stretched out her arms, one hand moving toward the flames again.

  “Do it again,” she whispered.

  He lifted his head a few inches, those eyes glowing. Clasping her hand, he tangled their fingers before he guided them into the dancing flames. She watched in fascination as they played over their flesh and slid up her forearm, an orange and red serpent. A different kind of heat spread over her flesh as Kane turned his attention back to her, to his exploration with his tongue and lips. She arched with a sigh as he pushed the lace away to find her nipple, tease and taste it, give it a gentle suckle, a less gentle score with his fangs.