by CD Coffelt
“It’s a rock crystal,” said a deep baritone voice behind her.
Sable jerked and the crystal bobbled and slipped through her fingers. Automatically, she bent to try to catch it, but a large hand was there before her, the crystal landing in the palm.
She stood back as Justus straightened. His eyes were on the crystal in his palm. “Rock crystals are natural stone, cut for chandeliers and such. No two are alike.” His eyes came up to hers, and he had a small smile on his face.
She knew he was tall, but she hadn’t realized the difference in their heights until now. Sable was taller than average, but Justus stood nearly a head taller. She could appreciate that fact with him so near.
He stood looking down at her with impassive and emotionless black eyes that seemed to open into an ebony pit of darkness. He held out the crystal, and she delicately picked it from the palm of his hand. Justus started to speak, hesitated, seemed to think better of it, and then smiled briefly. He turned without speaking and began to walk away.
“You have a lot of these crystals around.” At the sound of her voice, he stopped, but didn’t turn. “Why not set them in the window to catch the sun, like a window-dressing, something to pull in the customers,” she said to his back.
He turned to her, his face hard and still. The facets of the crystals were warmer.
“Or not?” she said in a small voice. “At least it would be kinda pretty.”
Justus glanced at the window, then back at her, hesitating. And then his face softened.
“Sure, go ahead,” he said slowly. His brow furrowed again, then cleared, and he absently touched the chain around his neck. As she watched, Sable thought it was as though he was struggling with something, some emotion.
Then the black eyes came up to hers again.
“I go to auctions,” he said suddenly. “Pick up all kinds of stuff there. Some of it can be real treasures. Sometimes bits and pieces of junk.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s junk, but I got a lot of those crystals at private sales. It’s not overly profitable, but it is interesting.”
And then, like the sun dropping below storm clouds at sunset and shining on the earth for the last hours of the day, he smiled.
Even his black eyes smiled. A little. She couldn’t see where the pupil ended and the iris began. Slowly, it registered on her that she was staring.
Sable shook herself back into reality.
“I’ll do that then, do a bit of…interior decorating? Organizing?”
He nodded. And he was still smiling as he turned back to his office.
She looked at all the crystals and said thoughtfully, “What you need is a way to sell this online.”
He jerked to a stop and turned.
“Know anything about computers?” Justus asked.
“Sure. I took several classes in digital media and designed some web sites.”
His eyes narrowed in thought. “Is that so?”
For the rest of the morning, Sable was up to her elbows—figuratively—in computer language and web site designs. Setting up a template was easy enough. Acquiring inspiration for the layout and design was another thing, involving an idea of the shop’s inventory. She needed to know what was sellable, their potential customers, and the market for antiques. She had most of the information sitting on the oak desk beside the computer in the office. Though he was computer literate, Justus was no geek, and Sable stretched her mental prowess in the field of techno skill and took over his office with some authority when he showed her his newest Dell. Soon, she was lost in search engines and potential domain names.
After setting her up and answering a myriad of questions, Justus sat quietly without interrupting. For a time, she lost herself in the computer world and forgot his presence. When she finally looked up, his expression was puzzled, almost wistful, changed from the cold demeanor earlier.
She started when he gave a low chuckle.
“That keyboard is going to catch on fire.” His raspy voice seemed to come from the back of his throat.
She laughed and Justus laughed with her. His eyes were deep, so alive with emotion, unlike earlier, when his expression had frozen her. Now they were warm, and she felt she could almost fall into them and disappear. For a while, she couldn’t pull away. Her lips parted as she began breathing deeper.
“Hey, anybody home?”
Emmett’s voice broke the spell, and she tore her eyes away from Justus’s face and shivered. She had been leaning toward him. Surreptitiously, she noticed Justus shake his head, as if to clear it. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, and he absently combed it back with his fingers as he cleared his throat.
“In here, Emmett. We’re in here,” he said loudly. He leaned back in his chair as Emmett came to the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest like a shield.
Justus pointed one finger at Sable. “Look at what I found: a lady that knows computers. I think I’ll keep her,” he continued and laughed.
But then the laughter disappeared and she saw a strange emotion cross his face. Sable could see he was clenching his teeth, as if he had said too much.
Emmett stared at Justus, startled, and then closed his gaping mouth. “Oh, uh, good deal,” he said.
“She’s got some ideas for the web site,” Justus said, his voice now lacking enthusiasm.
“Great. Looks great.” Emmett nodded absently. He cleared his throat. “Sable, did you want to eat a bite or what, then? Maggie’s waiting at home.”
“Sure.”
Justus stiffened, as if stuck by a pin.
What the hell’s his problem now, she thought.
“Hey, Emmett,” he said quietly. “You got another plate for me?”
Emmett turned to gape at Justus, then closed his mouth with a snap. “Course. Come along. It’s probably nothing special or fancy, but there’s always enough for a crowd.”
At that moment, she felt that skin-tightening, crawly feeling, the closeness of a fellow mage.
She held herself still and kept her eyes down. A single pink paper clip by the keyboard held her attention as she tried to control her breathing. Surely the two men could hear the wild beat of her heart, would ask why her face paled, despite the innocuous conversation. Sable turned the paper clip over in her fingers, playing with it while she tried to think.
For just a while, she had felt normal, her worries forgotten and stuffed into a mental back pocket, out of sight. For those few hours, on this special morning, Sable had been happy. Now her problems came crashing back, her stomach twisted into a knot.
The hunters searched for her still, watching and waiting like vultures over a near-dead creature.
A large hand interrupted her thoughts as it gently took the paper clip from her. She looked up at Justus. He had a strange expression, intent and speculative, and then his features smoothed. He held out one hand while fingering a black chain around his neck with the other.
Surprised, she took the offered hand, and he said gruffly, “Come on. Let’s see what Maggie has for us.”
The touch was warm, and for a moment, the feel of it held her attention. Then she noticed the slithery touch of another mage was gone. She sighed, relieved, and decided the other wizard she felt was not hunting for her. It had been a coincidence, and now the passing wizard had moved out of range.
With that thought, the happiness returned, and she felt almost giddy with relief. Sable laughed and Justus and Emmett laughed with her. She allowed Justus to lead her to the waiting car.
“Where’d she go?” the hunter said to the other adept. “I can’t feel her signature.”
Chapter Five
After the long eventful day with the McIntyres, Justus was ready for a workout. The stars glimmered in the evening sky, and the lingering heat of the sun leached from the concrete as Justus jogged under the streetlights, listening to the sounds of the night…and for the hunters.
Or at least, tried to listen. Instead, all he heard was the beep, beep, beep of a texting teenag
er.
Bert trotted at his side, his lanky frame and long legs keeping pace, but his focus on texting an impediment. The boy snickered and furiously began tapping the keypad again.
“Pole,” Justus said drolly.
Bert looked up, dodged the signpost, and then dropped his eyes back to his cell. He snorted at his screen.
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” he muttered and began hitting the pad again.
Justus saved his complaint and lengthened his stride instead. Soon, Bert had to shove his cell into a pocket to keep up. Justus hid his smile, but the silence didn’t last long.
It was easier to think and plan when he ran. It acted to clear his head of all extraneous situations, but Bert wasn’t helping.
“Feel anything?” the teen asked.
“Pipe down,” Justus snapped. “You want to run with me, you have to be quiet.”
Bert chortled, but kept his mouth shut for about thirty seconds.
“You got problems now. Number one being, what the hell are you gonna do with, uh, your new hire?”
“Life can sure get interesting in a hurry,” Justus grumbled.
Justus motioned abruptly when Bert started to speak again, and this time, he remained quiet.
They jogged down the sidewalk, and ah…another one. Or maybe the same one, he didn’t take the time to notice. The adept wore a sweatshirt and lingered by another man with the same nondescript clothing. Their eyes slid off Justus and Bert as they jogged by, and the men resumed their conversation, obviously on “duty,” watching for traffic of the magical kind.
Justus gave them no more notice than he would have given a passing vehicle. Instead, he augmented his hearing with a mental command.
“Don’t know,” one said. “She hasn’t shown up again. The tener unus just freakin’ vanished, you know?” The mixture of Latin and modern speak was jarring.
Justus gasped, and Bert swiveled to look at him, but continued to trot without speaking.
The other man snorted. “Hey, man, don’t fuss at me. You know the witch ain’t gonna like it.”
He lowered his voice. “Did ya hear? She got herself a new boy. That smart-mouth that pushed Volker off ’en the case of that other tener unus.” He laughed coarsely.
“Geez. That was him? The same one what knocked Roger into the next realm?” He laughed. “Well, he got his ass promoted. Promoted right into her line of sight.”
Justus clipped his mote of magic, breaking contact with the two hunters. Their raucous laughter still grated in his ears, and with difficulty, he resisted the urge to return and clout them. Both humans and wizards had that kind of thug littering their respective worlds. There was no difference.
He noted the level of anger rise in his emotions and tamped it down. He didn’t have time to give in to that emotion, not with this revelation.
So they were looking for her. For Sable in particular, a tener unus.
The “young one.”
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What?” Bert said, startled.
“Crap, well, that’s why her magic is so weak: a tener unus—a mage who hasn’t come into her full potential.”
Bert looked at him, his face confused. “What’s it… What? A teener…tiner…a whatis?”
Justus shook his head, trying to think, and didn’t answer for a moment. The magical aura of a tener unus would draw males to her side like kids to candy.
Son of a—what the hell had he gotten himself into?
“She’s a young one, a mage who hasn’t had an emotional trigger to bring her into her talents,” Justus said, his voice low. The shop was ahead and he motioned with a cut-off gesture to silence Bert’s next question. He unlocked the front door and stepped into the darkened shop with the young man. The tingle of the two hunter’s signatures still vibrated on the skin of his arms.
“She’s got hunters after her. She’s been tagged,” Justus said. He glanced at Bert. “Bonded, that is, to the Imperium. They’ll eventually control her and her magic.”
Bert’s usual ebullience faded and he hesitated. “So the Imperium knows about her?”
Justus nodded.
Bert grimaced. “The Imperium is following her and waiting for her to slip into her magic with some huge touchy-feely event that sets it off. Like what?” he said.
Justus groaned and thought about refusing to answer, but knowing Bert, he didn’t have that option. His teenage friend could hang like a bulldog on a subject when he was curious.
“Almost anything will trigger it. Any huge emotional overload on her senses. But…” He hesitated, then plunged on. “First-time sex does the trick every time.”
“Whoa, Momma,” Bert said, his eyes widened. “So she’s never…”
Justus rolled his eyes.
Bert stroked his chin, trying to look more adult than his demeanor lent to his expression, but he couldn’t hide the adolescent grin. “She seems a bit, I don’t know…old? To be a virgin, I mean.”
“Old? Ye gods…”
“You know what I mean. She’s got to be like in her twenties or something.”
“Yeah, yeah, ancient,” Justus said sarcastically.
What the hell was he going to do?
“So…” Bert stopped and hesitated. “They’re waiting for her to ‘get it on.’ Why not…”
He stopped again when Justus looked at him, his eyes hard.
“Well, you know, uh, force her?” he finished weakly. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past ’em, the way you got treated and all.”
Justus looked away. His voice was far away now as he replied. “It brings us into our talents. But…” He stopped, hardened his mind and voice again. “The emotional release has to be brought about by our choice. It can’t be forced. Not by sex.”
Bert hesitated for a moment. “Why?” he asked. “What’ll happen to the mage?”
Justus looked through the storefront window into the darkened night. “The magic explodes, rifling through their senses like buckshot through a carcass. Nothing is left of the adept’s mind because the elements tear it apart.
“Insanity. It causes irreversible insanity. And the Imperium cannot control them.”
The next morning, for the twentieth time, he found himself extending his senses to tell him when she was near. Fiercely, he shut it down. Again. And continued drumming his fingers on the desk.
Last night, sleep had been erratic, filled with plans and strategies, made and then discarded, formed again and trashed as his thoughts roiled, indecisive.
He had to leave or cut the connection with Sable.
But this had been his home, his life for several years. He liked it here, settled, with many friends like the McIntyres, giving him normalcy and some happiness. Sable was a desperate, young mage looking for a quiet place to find some normalcy.
And around and around he went, like a rat in a maze, looking for the cheese.
Damn it.
Well, first things first, he needed to cut down on the cussing, at least when Sable was around. Justus pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb and returned to the question he had asked himself the day before.
What the hell was he going to do?
Justus stood and strode the few steps from one wall of his office to the other, back and forth, first with his arms behind his back and then twining his fingers behind his head as he thought. Memories of her brilliant smile when that small kitten greeted her at the McIntyres’ interrupted his musings. When her problems faded for a while, the difference in her face was astonishing. As she’d held the buff-colored kitten, she had looked up at him and grinned. He had returned the smile when she did. Even now, standing in his office, he realized he was again thinking fondly of the memory. And smiling.
And the cat…
Ah, well, one problem at a time. Unless it decided to start something, Justus was content to let it slide.
He sat on the edge of the desk and let his shoulders slump. His ward stone provided some protection,
but she could still pull him in, no matter whether she intended to or not. Using it yesterday to cloak her, hiding her from the hunters, was an impulsive act. The change from happiness to abject misery was chilling when the hunter’s signature touched her. Now he knew why. She was their prey.
So, he had taken her hand to envelope her in the magic of his ward stone, not knowing if it would even work.
The memory of that small hand in his caused Justus to look down, and he flexed his fingers. She had placed her hand in his, so trusting and willing, and now he felt warmth spread in him that he had never felt before.
With a start, Justus pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand and growled. Shit. He needed to guard his actions, or he would end up forgetting himself and be the instrument to their capture by the Imperium.
Justus felt a thrum against his arms, the familiar tingle.
Sable was close, and his heart began to beat faster with the knowledge he may have to find a way to leave if he couldn’t control himself.
With the murmur of voices from the front room, Justus opened the office door.
Emmett was telling a story about Maggie, and Sable chuckled. The sound of that laugh made him gasp softly and then curse again, despite his promise to himself. Damn that tener unus crap. What a mess he had gotten into. He averted his eyes when she walked to the middle of the shop floor. But she laughed again, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her.
He marveled at his lack of observation. How could he not have noticed the rich color of her hair, like the varied red and deep brown of his mahogany wood? It had a wave, soft not curly, and it flowed over her shoulders like liquid.
