Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection
Page 61
“What the hell?” Her voice was low, just above a whisper. “How did you do that? I was...everything was there. Memories. Things we did. Places we went. Conversations...but from your side of it all. How the hell did you do that?”
“There's probably a term for it, but I've forgotten it. It's projection in reverse, I suppose.”
“Projection?”
“I can control others by projecting into their mind what I want them to do.”
A shadow passed over her expression, her eyes darkening. “Like making someone love you?”
“Never. I never used magic with you, or on you. I made a vow the moment I saw you, that whatever was going to happen between us, would come about without my interference. I promise you, I never used magic on you.” He found his hands making motions that seemed to be trying to convey more than his words could say.
“How about knowing when I wanted Chinese or always bringing what I had a craving for?”
“Oh...” He managed a smile, although it felt unconvincing. “That was...just observation. You're a creature of habit, you know.” Fingers crossed, he hoped that diversion would take her off track.
It earned him a smile. A genuine smile, the first he'd seen in what felt like an eternity. It lit up those blue eyes, and made them shine. His own smile grew stronger, and he reached for her hand again. For a moment, she started to pull away, but then stopped and let him take her hand in his. With coffee soaking into his sleeve, he wound his fingers through hers, never taking his eyes away from her face.
“Jessica.”
“Euros…you’re getting wet.”
“I don’t care.” He slid his fingers under the edge of her sleeve, along the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. Beneath his fingers, he felt her pulse beating fast. But her expression was still reserved, even with the smile.
“You said you needed my help. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t just an excuse to get me to have coffee, now was it?”
“I do need your help, yes. And you need mine.”
One elegant eyebrow rose, the look she gave him telling him—even without reading her mind—that she wasn’t sure if she could trust him…not yet, at least.
“What on earth could you help me…” Both eyebrows rose. “Oh, no. You do not mean Lansing and Parnell.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “No, no…and no. You…I can’t believe you. The last time you had anything to do with my job…”
She was practically breathing fire at him, but he couldn’t blame her. He’d almost ruined her career; he’d certainly ruined their relationship.
“This is different, Jess. Really. I can help you. There are things happening that you can’t see.”
Her grip tightened in his, but she didn’t pull away. He had a narrow window of opportunity here, and it was going to take revealing more than just magic tricks to get her to trust him.
“I said I’m well-versed in magic. But I’m not the only one.”
For a minute, it felt like time stood still. She looked at him, analyzing him, as if seeing him for the very first time. The little line between her brows deepened; it only showed up when she was either going to cuss someone out, or make an important decision. He hoped for the latter.
“Are you telling me Lansing was killed by magic?”
That surprised him, and for a minute he fumbled to continue. He’d planned a long explanation, but she’d cut right to the chase.
“Yes.”
“Yes. As simple as that?”
“More or less. It’s complicated…”
She sat back and laughed, the soft laugh he’d missed all these months.
“Life is complicated, Euros. My job is complicated. Adding magic to the mix…not that I really believe you, despite the coffee, and the thing…with the mind.” Her smile faltered for a minute. “That was, pardon my French, fucking weird.”
It was his turn to smile. “I’d have to agree. I’ve never let anyone do that before. It was…yeah, fucking weird is a pretty good description.”
“So, about Lansing…” She pulled her hand out of his, but left it on the table. He moved his sleeve out of the coffee, for all the good it did. “If I tell you something…something from the scene, you swear on everything…or whatever you swear on…that you won’t print this? Promise?”
Her eyes locked on his, and there was something in those eyes that sent a jolt of fear through him. He nodded, then decided that wasn’t enough.
“I promise. I can’t print this anyway. It’s all…”
“Unbelievable?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “That. But there’s more to me, than just being the magical type. I…”
Just then, the waitress appeared at their table, and out of habit—his from decades of secrecy and hers from the job—they both sat back, conversation stopping. The waitress looked at the spilled coffee, shook her head, and walked away without asking if they needed refills.
“Guess she doesn’t trust us with more coffee.” Euros slid out of the booth, then held his hand out to Jessica. She looked up at him and in that moment, he cursed himself for writing that article, for fucking up the best thing that had ever happened to him. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
For a minute, they were face to face, hers turned up, his looking down at her. He thought again, she’s lost too much weight. Her cheekbones were too prominent and her eyes were circled by dark rings. More than anything he wanted to take her away, anywhere, just the two of them. Someone bumped into him, and the moment was broken.
“I need to show you something. Do you trust me?”
She pulled her hand out of his, jamming both hers into her pockets, then pulling out her keys. “I’ve got my car…”
“We don’t need to drive. And you didn’t answer my question.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Yes, I guess I do. I have the feeling, that I have no choice. But where are you taking me?”
“I’ll tell you outside. Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
The sun was up now, the sky lemon yellow. People pushed past them on the sidewalk, and even though she’d tried to ask him where he was taking her, Euros hadn’t said anything since they’d left the coffee shop. He walked like he always did, fast, sending his coat swirling around his long, lean legs. She kept up with him, all the while biting her tongue to keep from asking what the hell he was up to.
Finally, they turned down an alley close to Parnell’s building. It was dark and gloomy in this little man-made canyon with the sun blocked out by the tall buildings. He finally stopped in a doorway. She smelled urine, both human and cat, and it made her wrinkle her nose.
Euros turned, and pinned her with that dark gaze of his that made her pulse race. “You were going to tell me something in the coffee house. Something you saw at the scene?”
“Oh…yeah.” She felt odd, like she was making something up, making more of just being nervous about being on her first case as lead. “I’m not sure if it’s anything.”
“If you think it’s something, tell me. This case…” He paced, his coat flapping around his legs. “These cases aren’t like anything you, or me—or this city—has ever seen. Whatever it is, no matter how small, tell me.”
He stopped pacing and looked at her with such intensity that she took a step back. But there was a wall behind her. I don’t need to be afraid of him, she reminded herself. He’d broken her heart, and her trust, but in the end, she knew he would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. Who was I kidding? I was just given a tour of his mind.
“Okay. There was something…odd…at the scene. It was just a feeling, but it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.”
He stood so still for so long, she wondered if he’d heard her. She was on the verge of saying his name, when he spoke. “Did you feel the same at Parnell’s? Anything at all?”
She nodded. “Yes. Not as strong. But it made me dizzy…like I’d inhaled helium, or something.”
He went silent aga
in, and she half-expected him to tell her she was crazy. Hell, she thought that herself.
“This is where I need you to trust me, okay? I need to take you somewhere that’s going to help explain this. Or at least, I hope it’s going to help.”
The desperate sound of his voice didn’t reassure her at all. “Euros, you’re scaring me. What do you know? And what did I…what was it?”
“Magic.”
The word hung between them in the dank air. This was getting to be too much, the word foreign in the context of what she did, her job. Being a detective. Crimes were supposed to be solved through logic and reason, not by listening to someone talk about magic.
“You were at the scenes, right? I mean, not just out on the street with the reporters?” That pissed her off, that he’d snuck into her crime scenes. “I swear…if you…”
His hand was on her arm, fingers tensing against her jacket. “No. Never. I was outside. But what you felt inside was magic…”
“But I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. You can sense magic. You’ve always had that ability.”
“What the hell are you talking about? If you’re magic, then why didn’t I ever sense it in you?”
“Because I kept you from it. I can do that. I…it wasn’t something I thought you needed to know, and then it got more difficult to bring up. And then…” Then it hadn’t mattered anymore.
“So, who’s lacking in trust here, you or me?” She jerked her arm out of his grip. “I’d say we’re even.”
He shook his head. “There’s too much for me to tell you now. I need to take you with me, to show you…my world. The Other World. And you’ll understand more when we’re there. I don’t want to stand in a filthy alley and argue with you.”
“You’re the one who brought me here.”
She could tell he was reaching the end of his patience. He was like that, patient and calm, until he wasn’t. Until something tipped him over, and he lost all semblance of his usual self. This time, he grabbed both of her arms, almost, but not quite shaking her.
“I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to help you, and get your help.”
“Euros, let go.”
Instantly, he let her go and took a step back. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this to be. Will you let me do what I need to do?”
“You keep telling me we need to go somewhere. So, let’s go.”
“Be ready. This is going to be like nothing you’ve ever experienced, Jess.”
He pulled her into his arms, and all her instincts went on high alert. Hugging Euros wasn’t what she wanted, but this wasn’t a romantic hug. He was hanging on to her like he was afraid she’d fly away.
“Á sealladh a hic; Siubhal; Nochdaidh ut ibi.”
“What the hell are you saying…”
Her world exploded in a flash of blinding, white light. In one second, she was there, in the alley, and then the next, she felt like she was everywhere, rising between the buildings, up into the sky. The only thing that stayed the same was the touch of Euros’s arms wound tightly around her back. But she didn’t know how that was possible because as far as she could tell, she was moving fast, the city spread out beneath her. A scream rose in her throat, but it was muffled, the helpless, soundless scream of a nightmare.
Her feet touched the ground, and even with Euros’s arms around her, she fell to the ground. It felt safer here, hands on the ground—dirt, with grass and damp leaves—head down, eyes closed. Nothing felt broken, but nothing felt right either.
“Are you alright?”
Euros’s voice was distorted, coming at her from different directions, close or far, in her head or from across the alley—she couldn’t tell. She lifted her head and saw his feet. They weren’t in the alley anymore, but she knew that. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew they weren’t anywhere she’d ever been before. She was in a totally different world. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from the earth under hands.
“I’m going to be sick.”
“Take a deep breath.” She felt his hand grip her upper arm and felt him pulling her to her feet. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she got her feet beneath her and stood up. The world went spinning around her again, and she turned into his arms, her face against the wool of his coat. Slowly, the rolling in her stomach slowed, her head stopped that infernal spinning. She took a breath, inhaling a bewildering array of scents: clean air, fallen leaves, something tantalizing and ephemeral, familiar enough to make her frown. It escaped her. She drew another breath.
Then her head was filled with an achingly familiar scent, warm and rich. Euros’s unusual scent. Just a hint of soap, but no cologne or aftershave. Euros, had never used anything besides some strange, yellow soap that was delicately scented with patchouli and honey. He said he got it at an obscure shop in a forgotten corner of an old neighborhood. He’d promised to take her, but they hadn’t lasted together long enough for him to do that. But that scent brought a flood of memories crashing through her mind. It was too much, too soon. And it wasn’t the right time or place.
Place. What was this place? She had no idea where she was.
Roughly pushing away from him, she brushed at her cheek with one hand, hoping he didn’t see her tears. She didn’t stumble as she turned away, but she came up short as she looked around.
“Where the hell is this?”
“This…this is my world. My home.”
The world around her was familiar in some ways, with trees and grass and a stone wall. But the colors were off, no, not off. They were green and brown and black, but they were richer somehow, deeper, more saturated. Yet there was an ethereal quality to everything, like the world was glazed with a faint coating of…
“Pixie dust.”
“What?”
She had to laugh, or cry. Laughing was easier, and she turned back to Euros. “You heard me. Pixie dust. It’s all…”
“Jessica, if you say this world is sparkly, I’m going to…”
Her laughter trailed off, but she smiled at him. She felt better, stronger. More clear-headed. Whatever this place was, his home or something else, underneath the strangeness, she felt safe. It was like… It was like being a child again. Playing in her yard, dressed in her red wool sweater, buttoned up against the fall chill, the sky overhead that brilliant blue that only comes to the Midwest in October. Playing a secret game, making up a world only she could see, enlisting her black cat as a familiar friend, then losing herself in that world. Time had stood still back then, and as far as she was concerned, she was invisible to the real world.
“No, not sparkly. Different.” She stepped away from him, down a path that stretched into the distance. She blinked in surprise, turning to face him.
“This is Brooks Park? How can this be…”
“Your world and mine are the same in many places, especially where the portals connect the two worlds. We didn’t come through the portal though. I used a spell to bring us here.”
“A spell? Like real magic?”
His brows drew together, and she thought she was going to get another reprimand for saying the wrong thing. “I mean, not like at the coffee shop, with the spilled coffee.”
His expression darkened further. “Jessica, it’s all real. There are no parlor tricks for one thing, and ‘real’ magic for another. It’s all magic. And for me, it’s my life.”
“Don’t give me that look, Euros. This might all be familiar to you, but until this morning, I had no idea about any of this. Or about you.”
He took a breath, his expression relaxed, but only slightly. “I’m sorry. This…you…I never thought I’d let you see you in this world. Never thought I’d have the need to bring you here.”
“So, you were going to keep this part of yourself secret from me, never tell me anything about this? How much more don’t I know about you?”
For a moment, they stood face to face, her with her hands on her hips, him looking down at her with a bemused expression.
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br /> “Would you have believed me, if I’d said this was my world? That this is where I came from? And if I’d done tricks for you, parlor tricks, made quarters show up behind your ears?”
The edge to his voice was one she rarely heard, and one she didn’t like at all. For a minute, she thought she’d hit a nerve, touched on something sensitive. It occurred to her they were having an argument in the middle of some other world or dimension, or maybe in some other time. And the only person she knew in this strange new world was Euros. And the only person who could get her back to where she belonged was the last person she wanted to argue with. With effort, she let her arms fall to her side, and unclenched her fists.
“Look. I’m sorry for questioning all of this. But you must admit, this whole thing is a bit surreal for me. I was in an alley and then you…did…something…” The words magic and spell refused to form on her lips. “You did something, and now I’m here.”
“Euros. What have you done? Who is this?”
She whirled around, instinctively reaching for her gun. But Euros only grunted.
A thin, white-haired man had appeared, apparently out of thin air. At least she hadn’t heard him approach. With the practiced processes that she’d learned at the academy, she took in everything that she could about the man in a glance—height, weight, long robes. But she kept coming back to his face—the high forehead, long straight nose, thin lips. His blue eyes were locked on hers, startlingly bright against his pale skin. Images of monks and Tibetan temples flashed through her mind.
“Mixt. It was unavoidable.”
The other man sniffed, lifting his chin and fixing her with a glare. “I should hope so.”
It took her a second to realize that she was the it in Euros’s sentence. She opened her mouth to explain she wasn’t an it, she was a Chicago Police Officer, but Euros cut her off.
“Mixt, this has to do with the dark magic, and the issue with the portals.”
The man—Mixt—straightened, and his expression lost some of its suspicion. But what replaced it was something that chilled Jessica’s blood. The man looked completely alarmed.