“I know.” Her words said one thing, but her body language said another. Paris watched her for a few minutes and she was well aware of it - avoiding his gaze, picking at her cuticles and then finding an imaginary rough edge on the counter-top and worrying it with her fingernail.
“What happened at the apartment? With the glass?”
Jade shrugged, her shoulders going up and down in a sullen manner. “I don’t know.”
He got the feeling she wasn’t being intentionally dense or surly. She really didn’t know.
“What were you thinking of when it happened?”
The shoulder shrug came slower this time and he realized that he could read that gesture - that was her knowing what she’d been thinking of and not wanting to say. Paris thought of his next question carefully.
“Is that your first nosebleed since Bruce fell ill?”
“Yes,” she answered easily and he took it for the truth.
Paris felt Bruce nudge at his foot under the table and wondered if it was by accident or design.
“And you’ve not had any others due to using too much magic?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been careful. I’m only doing small spells.”
“When you stopped Dex, you bled from the ears.”
Jade leveled him with a look. “You say that like I wasn’t there. I remember what happened, English. Dr. Gellar said I was fine. No permanent damage. It isn't like I did that for shits and giggles. He was trying to whammy the whole Coven.”
“I’m aware,” Paris said, trying to placate her. Silence stretched out between them again as he flipped through what he knew.
“When we didn’t know where you were, I cast a locator spell to find you.”
“I said I was sorry about that. I didn’t know you guys would be worried.”
He held up a hand. “That’s not why I’m bringing it up. What I meant to say was, I used a locator spell to find you, but it didn’t work like it should have.”
She slowly took a mug from the cupboard, giving him a quick glance and when he nodded once, taking one down for him as well. “What happened?” she asked, pulling the coffee pot out and pouring them each a cup.
“I don’t know. It was like the spell only partially worked.” Paris frowned. “Like it only half worked.”
Jade turned to look at him, carafe in one hand almost forgotten. Her mouth moved like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. “Did it…? How…?” She closed her mouth and swallowed, trying to find her words. “What do you mean half?”
“I used nearly the same spell to find you last night as I did when you first came to the Coven. It involves a fine powder created from some herbs and spices, along with a map, some weights and my own magic. I should have been better at it this time, more precise, since I know you now. I know your magic. But only half of the powder found you on the map.”
“Who did the other half find?”
Her voice was quiet, like she was afraid to ask him the question and his brows knit together at her wording.
“No one,” Paris said. She looked… disappointed. “Jade, who did you think it would find?”
Jade shook her head slightly, turning back to the counter. She poured two cups of coffee and pushed the carafe back with a slosh. She set his down on the table, pushing the small sugar dish over, but she didn’t join him. Instead, after she’d fixed her coffee as she liked, she stayed standing, leaning up against the counter. The sound of the spoon clinking against the ceramic as he stirred sugar into his coffee was loud in the small kitchen. Under the table, Bruce pressed against Paris’ leg again. He wasn’t sure if that meant ‘silly human, you should stop while you’re still ahead’ or ‘keep going, you’re getting there.’
“Jade, who is Lily?”
Jade watched the interior of her cup as though there were tea leaves inside, divining her future and past. Bruce got up from under the table and waddled over to her, falling over on his side and pressing his long, spiny back against her foot. She looked down at him and smiled before setting her mug on the counter and crouching down. She sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, her hand swiping along Bruce’s serpentine belly.
She took a long time forming her words and though he was generally a patient man, Paris found himself wanting to ask her more questions, prod her into an answer. But he also got the feeling that she was standing on a knife’s edge and if he disturbed her at all in this moment, she would topple off, falling on the side of silence.
“My dad was a mean drunk and he drank a lot. He probably ended up with cirrhosis of the liver. I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to him or my mom since I left home. They could both be dead. Or they could both be as we left them; dad drunk, looking for something to hit and mom just… indifferent.”
The small word ‘we’ caught his attention and he kept himself still so as not to distract her. Jade didn’t look up as she spoke. She kept her head titled down, focused on Bruce. Bruce, however, had turned his head so that his eyes were solely looking at Paris. It was a very potent sensation. Paris kept his own gaze locked on Bruce, afraid that if he looked away, or stared directly at her, Jade would stop talking.
“I don’t know which was worse, to be honest. I mean, my dad would hit, but my mom was checked out. She kept the house running, food on the table and liquor in the cupboards, but it was like she wasn’t really there. Or like we weren’t really there. I don’t know if you’ve ever been ignored or not noticed.” Jade didn’t wait for him to answer - she wasn’t really asking him a question so much as making a statement. “It really sucks.”
Not only was Paris holding Bruce’s gaze, he felt like he couldn’t move. As though she had somehow spelled him into being still. In a way, she had.
“People say that kids act out sometimes because some attention, even bad attention, is better than no attention.” She shrugged, one shoulder going up and down. “But what if we’d acted out and then she still didn’t notice us? Maybe that would feel worse. So we were a good kid. We were a really good kid.”
Paris noticed the subtle shift from the first person to the third and her mixing the two and his heart double-thumped in his chest. She must be talking about Lily. All this must be about Lily.
“With Dad drunk most of the time and looking for a fight and Mom there but… not…we were all we had. I had her and she had me and it was enough. We made it enough.”
Bruce smacked his lips a little, like he was swallowing or working something in his mouth. It was an almost-canine gesture - one Paris had seen dogs do when they lie down to sleep. He still held Paris’ gaze, his serpentine, reflective eyes easily resting on Paris and not looking away.
Paris had asked once if Lily was Jade’s sister and Jade had said she wasn’t. He recalled her words when he asked.
“You didn’t say you had a sister.”
“I don’t.”
She hadn’t answered who Lily had been, only that she wasn’t a sister. Now, with the way she spoke, he was more confused. Jade talked as though Lily had been there, together with Jade, as they grew up. If not a sister, then who? Or what?
“We used to sleep in the closet a lot,” Jade continued, her voice low and almost dreamy. “Our dad wasn’t a smart drunk. He’d come looking for us and if we weren’t in bed…” she shrugged again. “I don’t know why he never figured it out. It’s not like you can go very far when you’re young. But he didn’t.” Bruce’s eyes were drowsy, starting to flicker closed as Jade continued to sweep her hand back and forth over his belly. But he kept his gaze focused on Paris, even as his eyes drifted shut.
“I’ve started sleeping in the closet again and I’m not sure why.” Her voice was even softer now, like she was telling him a secret. “I don’t mean to. I just wake up there. And sometimes, things have been moved that I don’t remember moving.” Her hand stopped moving over Bruce’s belly and rested on his skin. “And I’m dreaming. Of water. Of Lily.”
Paris wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what
. Maybe that he was listening, that it was all right, that she could confide in him. But he was still afraid if he made a sound, he would break whatever impetus she was under to speak and she would lock her thoughts up tight again.
Suddenly, so quick that he flinched, both Jade and Bruce turned their heads toward the back door of the cottage. Bruce flipped up from his side to his belly, his eyes narrowing just as Jade’s did, both of them staring at the door.
“My demon locks are unraveling,” Jade said, a tone of dread in her voice.
“What?” Paris asked, sitting up right and staring at the back door. “How can you tell?”
“I can feel it.” She pushed herself to her feet, taking a step closer to the back door and he reached out a hand to stop her, but she was out of his range. She didn’t go any closer, frozen in place. Bruce’s tongue flicked out and he spat, hissing at the door.
“Is your magic failing?” Paris asked, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet.
Jade shook her head, still facing the door, but her eyes were moving around like she was seeing something else. Perhaps she was. Her locks were a demon spell and she said she liked demon magic for its complexity and structure. Maybe she was looking at pieces of the spell in her mind.
“No, it’s not my spell,” she said, her fingers flexing slightly by her side, like they wanted to do something, but didn’t know what. “Something… someone’s taking it apart.”
CHAPTER TEN
Bruce darted toward the back door, scratching the wood, leaving marks in the paint. When the door didn’t open under his ministrations, he turned his head to look back at Jade. His expression clearly said to her, ‘HUMAN WITH OPPOSABLE THUMBS, LET ME OUT.’
“Should I do it?” Jade asked Paris, not taking her eyes of Bruce. She couldn’t tell what was out there, only that something was. Something or someone taking apart her demon locks.
“Do you know what’s out there? Can you tell?” Paris asked. She felt him come up behind her, only slightly encroaching on her space. She didn’t turn around; her eyes were focused on Bruce and the door.
“No. But Bruce really wants out.” Bruce scratched at the door again, his claws leaving deeper grooves past the depth of the paint and into the grain of the wood. “The last time he wanted to go out like this, Dex and Veronica were outside my house. He scared them off.”
“You never told me that,” Paris said.
“It didn’t seem important after it all had ended.” Jade took a step toward the door, her hand reaching for the knob to let Bruce out.
“Wait. We don’t know-” Paris began, but Jade had already opened the door, despite his warning. Bruce was like a cartoon character for a moment - feet moving so fast that they couldn't get purchase on the ground, and then he bolted out the door like he’d been launched. Jade wasn’t sure she should follow him. She took another step toward the door, only stopping when she felt Paris’ fingers lightly touch her shoulder once.
“We don’t know what’s out there.”
“No. But… I trust Bruce,” Jade said. She’d trust Bruce before any member of the Coven. Maybe even before Paris.
Between the bite of the winter air and the things she’d been telling Paris about her past, Jade felt vulnerable and unprotected standing in the cold air of the open doorway. Bruce has disappeared into the dark of the back yard, or perhaps even further still into the dense vegetation that lined the property. She couldn’t see nor hear him. While Bruce seemed to be attuned to Jade’s location, she didn’t have the same connection back to him.
The demon locks were unraveling, like a knitted sweater with a loose, frayed end being pulled - slowly, methodically. They were coming apart. It wasn’t a confused or scattered approach. It was smooth and seamless. On a whim, she sniffed the air and caught the scent of sage, vanilla and licorice. She knew it was the magic of the person taking the spell apart.
“Do you smell that?”
“What?” Paris asked.
“Their magic. I can smell it.”
Paris sniffed the air next to her and despite the gravity of the situation, she thought he looked comical, delicately sniffing the air like a fancy dog. He blinked sharply and pulled back.
“Do you recognize it?” Jade watched his expression, but couldn’t read it.
“No. I thought it reminded me of someone, but… no.”
“Who?”
“It’s not relevant.”
Jade frowned at his answer. It could be relevant. She did best when she had all the information available - what might seem not important or incidental to Paris could still help. A rustle from further away caught her attention and Jade sighed in relief when Bruce sauntered back into the yard, no worse for wear. He trotted in like he hadn’t a care in the world, which was confusing because Jade could still feel her spell, or rather the bits of what was left, falling away. And then, finally, suddenly, the spell was gone, like leaves the wind carried away. Her magic reached out for the last dregs of it, but couldn’t catch anything. Bruce saddled up beside her, facing outside like she was, pressing himself against her leg.
“What did you find, buddy?” she asked, bending over to give him a solid pet, feeling better when she felt the weight of him under hand. “Did you see anyone? Did you scare them off?”
His tongue flicked out, toward the back of the yard, but he didn’t make any other motions. Jade narrowed her eyes and then decided to go out in the yard herself. She thought maybe Paris would try to stop her, but he only followed right behind her. She was glad for his presence. She sniffed the air again, hoping to catch the scent of magic again, but there was nothing in the cold, crisp air - only the slightly spicy scent of nightfall. She reached the edge of her yard, where the dense foliage between the houses and the alleyway sprung up, closing off the views to other houses. There was a green space between the property lines - a little bit of a wild area where children could play relatively safely during the day without worrying about cars or traffic. It also meant there was plenty of space for someone to linger unseen.
Jade didn’t hear or see anything. Bruce was sitting unconcerned by the back door. “I don’t think there’s anyone out there. Not anymore at least,” Jade said. She was glad when she saw Paris nod beside her.
“Agreed. I don’t think there’s anyone. I don’t think Bruce would have come back if there were.”
Jade crossed her arms over her chest, cold, but not quite ready to go back inside. “You keep telling me no one else at the Coven practices demon magic.”
“They don’t.”
She turned to face him, giving him her best, ‘oh really?’ face. “Someone just took apart my demon lock spell. The spell I use to keep my house safe. And they did it damn well. It just… fell apart.”
“I don’t know anyone that could do that. I don’t understand your spell myself. I can’t work demon magic like you can.”
“Then who did this?” she asked, gesturing wildly with one of her hands.
“I don’t know.” Paris paused for a moment. “Is it possible…could it have been you?”
Jade hoped her expression conveyed the full force of her non-verbal, ‘what the fuck?’
“I think you’ve been under extreme stress and your magic hasn’t always been under your control.” Paris’ voice was low and gentle.
“I smashed some glass! That’s the magical equivalent of throwing a hammer. This,” she waved a hand around her gesturing to her house and herself, “is a little more fine-tuned than a hammer. It took me three hours to set up that spell and someone took it apart in two minutes.”
“You managed to tweak it from your apartment, miles away.”
Jade rolled her eyes. “It’s not even the same thing.”
“Forgive me for not knowing that. I already said I don’t know the demon spells as well as you.”
“Yeah, and every time you say that it sounds like some kind of accusation.” Jade crossed her arms again, hugging them close to herself. She didn’t want to fight with Paris. S
he was tired and feeling scared and there was a faint throbbing starting up behind her right eye. Jesus, what if she really was going crazy? What if Paris’ question wasn’t so far off the mark? Could she have done this?
But then she saw Bruce still sitting patiently in the doorway of her cottage and she knew it hadn’t been her. If it had, Bruce wouldn’t have been so keen to get outside and have a look around. She trudged back to the kitchen, hearing Paris following along behind her. She closed and locked the back door, hearing the inefficient slide of the deadbolt and sorely missing her demon locks already. She could try the demon lock spell again tonight, but it would take her time to set it up. Besides, what guarantee did she have that whoever took them apart wouldn't just do it again?
Paris asked another question. “Could it have been the demon? Seth?”
Jade’s eyes darted toward the pantry. She was about to shoot off a quick negative response, but then paused to logically consider Paris’ question. “No,” she said slowly. “He just shows up if he wants to. And the demon locks don’t work on him anyway. The warding does, or at least I hope it does.” She felt another shiver at the thought of her demon warding being pulled apart like her locks. She reached out a tendril of magic and poked at a few of her wards and got a nice, resonant ‘ping’ back. “The warding feels okay. And if Seth did take apart my locks, I get the feeling he’d like to show up and tell me how he did it and maybe offer a deal on how to stop it in the future.”
Paris’ sharp blue eyes fixed on her quickly. “He’s still pursuing a deal?”
Jade rolled her eyes. “Please, that’s all he does.” At the look on his face, she continued. “It’s not like I’m taking him up on it.”
Paris didn’t look wholly convinced and she didn’t have the energy to argue with him.
Jade leaned against the counter again feeling overwhelmed. Lily, her dreams, Bruce’s scaly patch, moving and now the demon locks.
“I didn’t want to mention this just yet, as you’ve a lot on your plate,” Paris began and Jade felt her stomach sink. Ugh. This sounded like more bad news. “But there have also been some… reports of the area in the Preserve, out by the lake, of your magic.”
Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) Page 18
