Harrison knelt beside Julie and gently picked her up. She felt cool to the touch, her skin faintly pink. He pulled her close for a moment and caught the faint scent of cinnamon. Each angel had an individual scent. He’d heard it said that while humans usually have no conscious memory of their contact with the Seraphim, that scent could invoke feelings of comfort and safety afterward.
He moved to the bed and pulled off the covers with one hand. He laid her down, removed her black loafers and then pulled the sheet and blanket up to her shoulders.
“I never knew you were so nurturing.” Bas stood near the wood laminate cupboard that held the television and watched him.
“I’m not,” Harrison said shortly. He moved to sit where he could see the bed.
“How many times did you get tucked in at night?” Bas asked softly.
“You know the answer to that.” He glanced at Bas. “I couldn’t leave her on the cold floor.”
“Two minutes ago I’d have predicted that’s exactly what you’d do.”
Bas was right. Harrison didn’t spend much time worrying about how comfortable anyone was. His worries were confined to restoring the Triad and to seeing justice served.
He stared at Julie’s face. Her eyelashes fluttered as if she fought to regain consciousness. Most people who had their conception of reality torn apart would welcome the quiet respite of sleep. This one’s mind refused to close down. He could almost feel her neurons firing and her brain sifting information.
He admired her spirit. He admired the way she protected her daughter like a fierce lioness. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t want her scared or cold. He glanced at Bas. “She’s over forty, and her powers just triggered.”
“I told you she’d been raised human.”
“But she still should have come into her powers, whether she developed them or not. Why did you send me to her? How could a powerless Dancer help me?”
“She was never powerless.”
Harrison had no patience for Bascule’s riddles. “I’d like to keep her here until she regains consciousness. Her family will hover, and I need to talk with her. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course.” Bas looked at the woman on the bed. “I was planning on leaving this evening anyway. The room is paid for until tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks.” Harrison looked toward the balcony. “Where are we?” Judging from the angle of the sun, they were in the same time zone as Michigan.
“Just outside of Tampa.”
“Is there trouble here?” Prior to the Rift, the Farnsworth family had been one of leading Triad families in Florida. Jerry Farnsworth had recently agreed to assume the position of Lion of Florida and was beginning to rebuild trust here, along with a governing structure.
“No. Jerry was a good choice. The Farnsworth family has branches throughout the state and are well liked.” Bas picked up a piece paper from the small desk and crumpled it into a ball before throwing it in the empty metal wastebasket.
Harrison didn’t miss the fact that the paper hit the can with more force than necessary. “You’re here searching for your mystery person.” About five years ago, Harrison had deduced that Bas was looking for something or someone. Bas had never confirmed nor denied it. He simply ignored Harrison whenever he had asked about it.
Harrison was therefore not surprised when Bas nodded toward Julie. “Tell me what happened.” The paper ball burst into flames, quickly burning to ashes.
“We kissed. Our powers resonated. Julie began pulling power and couldn’t release it.”
Bas pulled out the chair next to the desk and sat down. “This changes everything,”
“No, it doesn’t.” Harrison wouldn’t let it. Marguerite had to be pushed out of his head.
“You can’t use Julie to break the tie. It’s too dangerous. The fact that your kiss triggered her latent abilities could mean that you two are what people used to call ‘in harmony.’”
“Harmony? Not bloody likely.” Julie defied him constantly. She thought he was insane.
“It really has nothing to do with your personalities or how you get along.” Bas smirked. “Obviously. We now think couples like you and Julie manipulate energy in such a way that your power attracts like opposite poles of a magnet. This is rare among our people. Diksen was doing some research on the phenomenon in Sweden before the Rift. I recall hearing that intimate contact,” Bas looked at Harrison and clarified, “shagging, could force a blood bond in a small percentage of cases.”
Harrison looked at Julie. “How small a percentage?”
“Around ten percent in his small sample.”
“If there were ten percent chance of rain, you wouldn’t bring an umbrella. Stop worrying.”
“Worry is useless, caution is not.”
“If she can break this sodding curse, I will have sex with her.” He’d consider sex with a monkey if it would get Marguerite out his head. Julie was a no-brainer. The idea of a forced bond occurring because of sex was ludicrous. “The Balance doesn’t bond with one person. If anything, his bond is with the whole Triad.” Harrison believed his words, but looking at Julie, he felt a whisper of rebellion. “Does Mots de Sagesse say anything about this?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You wrote the bloody thing.”
Bas curled his lip. “Yes, I remember that. I’m merely surprised at your sudden interest in the prophecies.”
“I have interest in anything that might give me a clue as to how to solve this problem. I read the book while at school. The writing is pretty dense and archaic. Unfortunately, I don’t remember much beyond the basic stories.”
Bas sighed. “Why did I even bother to have a scribe in my room for the five years I was in and out of that vision trance? Read it again.”
“Do you keep a copy with you?” He’d probably have a few hours to kill while he waited for Julie to wake up. He could skim.
“It would be a bit puffed up to keep a copy of my book on me at all times.”
“Which is why I assumed you’d have one.”
Bas grinned. “I’ll hunt one down for you. Do you still feel Marguerite’s presence in your head?”
“Yes.” Like a dull ache that never left him, a constant distraction.
“She’ll try to place the final tie during the next new moon.”
“Unless I’ve broken her hold by then.”
“Do not continue with your plan to use the Dancer.”
“My plan?” Harrison looked away from Julie to glance at Bas. “I believe it was your plan.”
“Whatever.” Bas studied Harrison. A fleeting shadow of regret and sorrow darkened his eyes. “Regardless of what you think, shagging the Dancer is too risky. Don’t do it. We’ll have to move to Plan B.”
“You didn’t mention a Plan B in our previous discussions.” Harrison spoke calmly, but he didn’t feel calm. Stopping this curse was too important for Bas to just dole out information as he saw fit.
“I gave you what was supposed to be the simplest, quickest way.” Bas shrugged. “Plan B means waiting. If the Council weaves a protective circle around you during the night of the next new moon, it should block Marguerite’s attempt at placing the second tie and break the curse.”
Waiting until the next new moon to rid himself of Marguerite was almost unthinkable. Harrison paced the small room. The constant wrongness of her presence already affected him, played with his mood, his thinking. “Do you really think sex with Julie is a risk? I don’t form attachments. You know how I was raised.”
Bas walked over to Julie and touched a soft curl resting on her cheek. Harrison’s stomach muscles clenched, but he didn’t say anything.
Bas didn’t look at him, but as if he sensed the volatile emotions that Harrison couldn’t define, he stepped away from the bed. “She’s lovely and strong-willed. A fitting mate for anyone.”
Harrison moved between Bas and the bed. He picked up the lock of hair Bas had touched and rubbed it between his fingers. “Not for a man
like me.”
“I’m sorry you believe that.” Bas’s spoke seriously, his stare steady and unblinking.
For a moment, Harrison wanted to comfort Bas, which was an odd feeling. Bas walked to the sliding glass door that led to a small balcony and slid it open. He turned, his gaze encompassing both Harrison and Julie. “Call me if you need me.” In the blink of an eye, a great horned owl sat on the iron rail beyond the door. With a single, silent flap of its wings, it soared into the night.
Julie opened her eyes to darkness. She reached out for her bedside lamp, confused when she touched only air. Last night’s dream rushed back in a jumble of bits and pieces.
She sat up and peered into the unrelieved black. This was not her bed. This was not her bedroom. “Hello?” She whispered the word, not sure she should let whatever lurked in the shadows know she was awake.
“You’re awake.”
Her heart jumped at the immediate response. Not because of the fact that the voice belonged to Harry. “Where am I? Is Tasha okay?”
“She’s fine. She’s at your house.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “What happened? Where am I?”
“What do you remember?”
A collage of images flashed through her head. She focused on one of the clearest. “I remember being angry with you. We kissed and then….” And then everything got hot and fuzzy. “Have you been sick recently, Harry? I think when we kissed I must have picked up a virus from you that caused me to spike a fever and start hallucinating.” She put a hand against her now-cool brow. “That could be why you’ve been having delusions about a curse.”
A light clicked on, and she squinted at the bright flare. She pushed herself to a seated position and looked around. She appeared to be in a hotel room. Harry sat in a tan vinyl chair, facing the bed. He had his hands in his pockets, and he watched her with brooding intensity.
“I’m sick with some super bug that made you instantly ill. That’s your explanation for all of this?”
“It’s one possibility.” Okay, so not a very good one.
Harry gave her a look that said he doubted her sanity. Which was another possibility. Maybe she was really in a psych ward, and this hallucination was just a residual fantasy not controlled by her antipsychotic medications. That was the reason for the twist of heat curling through her and the almost uncontrollable desire she had to crook her finger at him and lie back on the bed. No sane person would be thinking about sex when there were so many unknowns on the table.
With a sigh, Julie put her feet over the side of the bed, relieved to see that except for her shoes, she still wore her clothes. So she wasn’t a total slut, even during a psychotic break. Was she happy or sad about that?
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” She immediately tried to blank her mind in case he was trying to read it. “There’s absolutely nothing in my head. I’m very boring.” So boring and uninteresting her ex-husband had packed up and left. Okay. Where had that come from? Apparently, in addition to not being slutty, her psychotic brain was a whiner that wanted to have a pity party.
Harry stood in a single, supple move and walked toward her. “You are many things, Julie, but boring is not one of them. Your mind is an intricate puzzle. Ten minutes spent with you is more adventure than most men can handle.”
Was that a compliment? Whether it was or not, his words soothed parts of her she hadn’t realized were raw. Of course, he had an ulterior motive for flattering her. He thought he needed her to break the curse. “You’re just saying that because you want to get me into bed.”
“You’re already in bed,” he pointed out with a small smile.
“You know what I mean. If we slept together, got married and had a daughter, you’d stop thinking life with me was an adventure. I’d be the woman who was holding you back from your dreams.” Oh, great. Just spill all your hurt and insecurities out on the guy, Julie.
“How do you know having a family isn’t my dream?”
“You want to get married?” she asked, incredulous.
“Of course not.” He spoke quickly, as if afraid she might drop to one knee and propose. “That will never happen.”
“You getting in bed with me is something that will never happen, either.”
“We resonate, Julie.” He snapped the words out, obviously irritated.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Tuning forks resonate, not people. Her intricate puzzle of a brain felt like it was missing a few pieces.
He took a step and suddenly he was towering over her, his knees almost touching hers. Her heart fluttered at his nearness.
She scooted backward across the bed and stood on the other side. The gleam in his eyes gave her the sinking feeling that she’d pushed his predator button.
She held up a hand. “Enough.”
“I merely want to remind you how it feels to resonate, since you’ve apparently forgotten.” He put a knee on the bed.
The focused look on his face held her still. Had anyone ever looked at her as if the rest of the world didn’t exist? She lost time in that look, felt a strange yearning burst to life.
Then he shifted, and she blinked, suddenly aware of her surroundings again. “Resonate! Of course! Silly me. Now I remember. Violins, rainbows. No need for a refresher.”
She thought she heard a snort, though Harrison wasn’t the type to snort. He took his knee off the bed and looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite interpret. “I like you, Julie Dancer. And they were fireworks, not rainbows.”
The sweetness of his sudden smile caused an ache in her chest. “Right.” She took a deep breath. “Enough of this…nonsense.” She waved a hand between them. “Let’s order a bracing cup of tea from room service, and you can tell me what is going on and how I can get home.”
The smile disappeared from his face. “If your parents hadn’t been so irresponsible, you would already know what’s going on. Jean Dancer has a lot to answer for.”
“Tell me about it.” She was going to have a serious discussion with her mother the next time she saw her. Her mother. Who had popped into her kitchen out of thin air. “I’m a witch. That’s what you told me after we kissed.” Oh. My. God. Flashes of light danced in front of her eyes.
“Breathe, Julie. You’re a Sun Dancer. You wield the energy of light.”
“So…sort of like a witch?” She took a deep gulp of air but couldn’t get rid of the funny buzzing feeling that seemed to zip through her body. “Or would that make me more like a Jedi knight,” she asked, “tapping into the Force?”
He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “The Jedi knight analogy is closer, but our people have been called witches for ages.”
The funny feeling grew stronger. Our people? Witches? “I’m not in Kansas anymore, am I?”
He looked puzzled and then recognized the reference. “You watch a lot of movies.”
“My laptop is my Friday night date. Okay, Saturday too. We’re very close.” She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. “You’re not crazy like I thought, are you?”
“Not yet.” He didn’t smile. “Prolonged exposure to you might change that.”
She couldn’t argue the point. She was driving herself crazy as well. Her head began to ache. She needed time, maybe a lifetime, to digest everything that had happened. “I want to go home.”
“You’ve always had that power, Dorothy.” Harry paraphrased Glinda without a pause.
She let out a startled laugh that edged into a sob.
He considered her for a moment. His hard face softened. “You’re handling this quite well, but you need time.” He spoke slowly and calmly. “Think of your mother. Think of Natasha. Gather the energy around you.”
Where was a pair of ruby slippers when you needed them? She had no idea what he meant by gathering energy, but she pictured Tasha standing in their kitchen. A stab of heat rushed through
her. “Ouch!” Her mental image dissolved in panic. Not again.
“That won’t happen,” Harry reassured her. “Before, you tapped into the energy around you and didn’t have an avenue to release it. Your body has opened channels and reached equilibrium. You haven’t yet learned to transform the energy but it’s ebbing and flowing through you. It’s an unconscious process, like breathing, unless you reach for large amounts of power.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Get out of my head, Harry.
He jumped on the bed and walked over it, making the awkward move look graceful. He stepped down beside her, and with a smooth move pulled her into his arms.
“We’ll use my power this time.” Without another word, he fastened his mouth against hers.
This heat didn’t hurt. It seduced and warmed. For just a moment, she let go of the desperate struggle to make sense of everything that was happening to her. Her fingers spread against the back of his neck and compulsively curled as he deepened the kiss, his tongue boldly stroking into her mouth. A moan caught in her throat, the slight sound bringing back a rush of reality.
She pushed, and he lifted his head. “Do you have to kiss me for this to work?”
His lips curved into a wicked half-grin and sent another wave of sensation through her. “No.”
Then his eyes darkened, and his arms tightened their hold. She closed her eyes and let his hand push her head against his chest. He felt right. A solid anchor in this sudden whirling void.
She didn’t open her eyes until she heard her name called.
“Mom!” Tasha jumped up from the kitchen table, almost knocking over the cup of tea her grandmother had just placed in front of her. She elbowed Harrison out of the way and buried her head in her mother’s shoulder. Her mom’s arms came around her and the world began rotating again. The air finally held enough oxygen for her to breathe.
Her mother squeezed her tight. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“It’s morning,” Tash accused, not lifting her head. “You’ve been gone all night. We didn’t know where you were and weird silver people popped into the kitchen and—”
Hot Magic Page 5
