A Little Street Magic

by Gayla Drummond

  “Promise.”

  Everyday imagery worked far better than trying to visualize tiny electrical pulses flowing around in brain coral. It was freaky enough, being able to “see” and “hear” other people’s minds, so the simpler the imagery, the easier it was to make sense of having telepathy.

  I’d learned that “personal bubbles” were a real thing for minds, not just bodies. Everyone, myself included, was the center of their own little, round universe. Which meant that mental shields tended to be circular in nature. Dane’s wasn’t an exception to that rule. Huh, maybe that’s why Sal suggested a maze to me?

  Afraid of causing real damage, I carefully circled his mental wall twice, before noticing a line in one spot. Closer examination revealed it wasn't the only line, and together, they formed the outline of a door. I gave it an experimental push, and nothing happened.

  “Did you feel that?”

  “What?” Dane replied. “Are you doing something?”

  “Yeah. Tell me if you notice or feel anything.” I gave the door a harder push. No reaction from him.

  Maybe the door didn’t push open. There wasn’t a handle for pulling, just a smooth surface, aside from the shallow indentions of the door’s outline.

  Hm. I imagined my telepathic links as power cords, because I was basically plugging into their minds. Made sense to me, but confronted with Dane’s “door,” I began to rethink that imagery decision. Maybe a rope was a better? Because a rope could unwind to become more than a single piece.

  Yeah. My link changed from a power cord to a thick rope, the end of which unraveled into four separate strands. They slid around each line of the door, and found tiny holds. Hah!

  I pulled, and nothing happened except Dane blinked. “Did you feel that?”

  “No, had one of those see-something-from-the-corner-of-my-eye moments.”

  Huh. Another pull, and he blinked again. “Did the same thing just happen?”

  “Yeah,” Dane said.

  I smiled. “I think you have an early warning system. Anytime ‘corner-of-the-eye’ visitors happen in batches, good chance someone’s trying to break through your mental shield.”

  “Now that’s cool, and important to know.”

  “Yeah.” I gave the link a hard yank, saw him blink, and felt the door open just a touch. Enough for the four-pieced link to slither through, and Boom! I was in his brain. “How about now?”

  “A third C.O.E. visit, but nothing else.” My grin tipped him off. “Oh, you’re in my head right now?”

  “You keep pushing your pizza every day agenda just to annoy me. Pest.”

  Dane laughed. “Okay, you’re in my head.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t exactly easy.” I reeled the link in, and his mental door shut. My head was really beginning to pound. “And I’m out.”

  “Guess I’d better work on that.” Dane turned and settled into his seat. “Think Brock can break in?”

  “I don’t know. Stone doesn’t think he’s had that much practice with supes.” We’d made it to the highway, and would be home in minutes. “Hope Alleryn’s there, and hasn’t had to wait too long. I could sure use one of his pain remedies.”

  The elf was there, waiting behind the wheel of a silver SUV that probably cost almost as much as my house. Alleryn hopped out the second Logan finished parking, opening the passenger door to look in.

  “What happened? Those are burn blisters. You still have hair, so I’d assume you weren’t the centerpiece of a bonfire.”

  “Mind if we get out?” Dane asked, leaning away from him. Without a word, Alleryn moved back. “Thank you.”

  Once out of the car, I recounted the pertinent events on the way to the house, finishing as we reached the dining room table. The elf listened, his grass green eyes intent on the visible blisters.

  “It’s rare, a psychic experiencing physical manifestations of trauma, but not completely unheard of. Is this the first time it’s occurred?”

  “No.” I told him about my first, and possibly only, precognition while Dane dumped my clothing in the washer, started coffee, and began poking around in the fridge. Logan sat at the table with us, watching Alleryn. Something he’d probably done every time the elf had worked on me.

  “They looked much worse at first, yes?” Alleryn examined the back of my hand, lightly running a fingertip over the remaining blisters.

  “Yeah. My skin was shiny pink and I think they were bigger.”

  “They should disappear in a few hours on their own. Are you feeling any discomfort?”

  “Big headache, nothing else.”

  He nodded, made a little gesture, and Logan’s sniff sounded right before an old-fashioned, black medical bag appeared on the table. “I’ll mix a draught for you.”

  “I’d appreciate it, and thank you for coming over so late.”

  Alleryn waved away my thanks, and stood to open his bag. “Have you heard the news?”

  “‘Mayor Thorandryll’? Yeah, it just doesn’t have that certain ring to it.” I accepted a cup of coffee from Dane. “Mm, thanks.”

  He gave Logan the other cup he carried, and asked the elf, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Alleryn nodded, pulling out little glass bottles. I cleared my throat. “You know, it’s considered polite to reply verbally.”

  He paused to look at me. One of his eyebrows rose. “Beg pardon?”

  “We’re friends. These two aren’t only my friends, but part of my clan. I like it when all my friends can play nicely with each other.”

  The elf blinked, glanced at Logan then Dane. Both smiled at him. “You’re saying my manners are lacking.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “My apologies.” Alleryn inclined his head to me before looking at Dane. “Yes, I would enjoy a cup, and thank you for offering.”

  “You’re welcome, and I’ll have it ready in just a minute.” Dane didn’t look or sound smug, but he did wink at me while turning away.

  Alleryn returned to selecting bottles. “Not that I mind making house calls, but this is a relatively simple remedy. It does work best freshly mixed, but the ingredients are easily obtainable.”

  “Great, if you’d write...” was as far as I got.

  “Considering the condition you’re often in when needing one of these, I don’t think you’re the best choice as student.” The elf looked across the table at Logan. “You’re a much better choice.”

  Aw, he was trying. I sat back and sipped my coffee, watching Logan move to the elf’s side. Herbs were named, Alleryn pausing to politely thank Dane again when his coffee was delivered. Measurements were in pinches, dashes, and drops.

  I followed along until Dane asked, “Do you want me to go get the dogs?”

  “I can have Leglin bring them home, but they’d probably enjoy the walk if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t.” With a pat to my shoulder, he left. The touch reminded me that my latest vision had ended when they’d both touched me. Coincidence?

  I didn’t know, and having an elf handy, decided to ask. Not until they’d finished and Logan left the table to check my fridge for something to mix the result into.

  “Maybe you can answer a question for me.”

  Alleryn flipped his mahogany hair over his shoulders. “I’ll try.”

  “It’s about visions. Do they stop only when they decide to?”

  “I’m far from an expert on the subject, but there is an old story that’s relevant. It’s said there once was a mage who was plagued by visions. They near filled his waking hours, and the poor man couldn’t touch a thing without having a vision result.” He paused, noticing Logan holding up a carton for approval. “Yes, juice is fine. Just a small glass.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Alleryn began putting his little bottles away, checking the cork stoppers on each before placing them in the bag. “After years of suffering, someone gave him a cat. The cat proved able to sense when his master was in distress, and would
run to him when the visions held sway. Whether it was the physical contact or purring, I can’t say, but the mage’s visions rapidly began to lessen in both intensity and quantity.”

  Interesting. I decided to tell him about something else. “I’ve recently pulled a few people into my visions. Not just people, but Leglin too.”

  Alleryn sat down, his face going slack. He rallied and leaned forward. “That’s not usual. However, blood magic is quite powerful, and the hound is blood-bonded to you. Which people?”

  “Logan, Dane, and Moira.”

  “Members of the clan by which you are tied by blood.” He nodded, straightening to push the small bowl holding the results of their efforts to Logan. “Just mix it in well, and it’s ready. It must be the blood bonds, but that’s not actually pertinent to your question.”

  I’d finished my coffee, and put the cup down. “The vision tonight stopped when he and Dane touched me. One second, I was burning, the next, I was fine. Well, aside from looking burned and having a sore throat from screaming.”

  “Fascinating.” Alleryn abruptly turned to Logan. “What were you thinking?”

  Logan froze, spoon an inch above the powdery surface of the juice. “What?”

  “When you touched her. What were you thinking?”

  My boyfriend—too soon? Had I been calling him that?—began to stir. “She was screaming with pain, and I wanted her to stop hurting.”

  “You touched her, and she did. Hm.” The elf leaned back, tapping his chin with one long finger. “Could be coincidence. Or not. Perhaps the blood ties? Then again, it may be something far simpler.”

  “As in?” It was kind of fun, watching Alleryn think. The chin tapping, his eyes darting around, and even his eyebrows got in on the act, twitching up and down. He wasn’t a quiet thinker. More like a toned down, mad scientist thinker.

  “Love.” He practically trilled the word. I met Logan’s eyes, and we both found something else to do. He stirred, and I admired the shiny surface of my dining table.

  Alleryn laughed. “Really? You’re both adults. But I didn’t necessarily mean the romantic sort. There are others: the love of a parent for a child, vice versa, and etcetera. Friends care for one another, and that’s yet another sort.”

  “Dane would’ve been thinking the same thing,” Logan said. “Friends and clan. Cordi is one of our queens.”

  The elf pointed at him. “Exactly, and you male tigers do have that instinctive urge to protect your queens.”

  It sounded logical, but of course, we didn’t know whether or not it had been a coincidence. “I guess we’ll have to test that theory next chance we have.”

  “Please do, and let me know the results.” Alleryn beamed. “If it works, it could be helpful to the others.”

  “Uh, what others?” I watched his smile dim.

  “There are only a few, and the cat idea didn’t work for them. Neither did dogs, rabbits, or horses. We even tried llamas and alpacas.”

  It sounded as though I’d been right to fear being stuck permanently in a vision. “Are you saying that there are psychics having constant visions right now?”

  “Five, over the entire world. At least, only five that my colleagues and I know of. We’ve been trying to help them without success. But if this,” he waggled his hand between Logan and me, “works, I’ll suggest we attempt a blood bond to a service dog.”

  I wished there were something handy guaranteed to trigger a strong vision. Oh, but wait. We’d be at the station tomorrow, and they had murder weapons galore. “I’ll see about arranging opportunities for another strong vision.”

  Logan brought me the juice, which had a herb-flecked froth on top. “Here you are, madame.”

  “Thank you.” I downed it. “Delicious. Orange juice is definitely preferred from now on.”

  “Noted.” He took the glass back with a grin, and went to the kitchen.

  “Perhaps not too strong of a vision,” Alleryn said. “I don’t know how the physical manifestations may affect you over time.”

  “Do the ones having constant visions ever have them?”

  “It’s rare,” he reminded me. “You’re the first to have them that I know of, since the Sundering.”

  Discord Jones, head of the psychic class. I was just too lucky.

  TEN

  Dane arrived with all the dogs shortly after Alleryn finished his coffee and left.

  Six dogs. I was in danger of becoming an animal hoarder. The thought struck my funny bone, making me giggle. My mind was getting fuzzy from the pain remedy.

  “Go on home,” Logan told Dane. “And thanks. I’ll get everyone tucked in and lock up.”

  “Okay.” Dane ruffled my hair in passing. “Night, Cordi.”

  “Night night.” I waved at him, knowing my smile was goofy, but not really caring. Elf meds were better than prescription drugs and all-natural, to boot.

  He chuckled, waving back. “You’re drunk. Go to bed.”

  “Drugged.” There was a difference.

  “Yeah. See you tomorrow.” He left, quietly shutting the front door behind him.

  “I’ll help you upstairs before cleaning up down here.” Logan held out his hand.

  “You don’t have to clean. I can do it tomorrow.” I completely missed trying to take his hand, and laughed. “No Coordination Cordi is in the house.”

  Bone reared to plant his front paws on my thigh. “You smell funny. Like blood and plants.”

  “It’s been one hell of a night.”

  “And Chinese food.” His one ear went flat, and every pair of dog eyeballs present began burning a hole in me. “Did you save us any?”

  I looked up at Logan. “They want Chinese food.”

  “It’s after three. They can wait. Come on, sweetheart. You’re going to be out cold in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Not fair,” Bone muttered, but he dropped to all fours. The others, except for Rufus and Leglin, complained too.

  “Sorry, guys.”

  Logan pulled me to my feet, and I swayed. “Maybe I’d better carry you.”

  “That is a fantastic idea.” I had a better one. “I have one too. You could stay here tonight.”

  He swooped me up and the room spun. “You’re wearing my emergency pajamas.”

  “Oh.” I had to think about that for a second. “I can change.”

  Logan chuckled, heading for the stairs. “If you can manage to change, I’ll stay.”

  “Yay.” I let my head fall to his shoulder. “Cuddling.”

  Upstairs, he deposited me on the bed and followed my increasingly slurred directions to retrieve panties and a PJ set. “Here you go. I’ll settle the dogs and lock up.”

  “Uh huh.” I began struggling with the drawstring on the sweatpants.

  “Let me get that.” Logan made short work of the slipknot. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

  “Thank you,” I sang, and he left the room laughing.

  My mission was simple: change clothes. Completing it wasn’t so simple. I couldn’t get my fingers to work well, as more fuzz filled my mind. A sudden ear bug had me trying to remember the words to “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” I sang the words I knew and made nonsense noises to fill the gaps.

  The sweats were relatively easy, though I somehow managed to stick my head in a sleeve while pulling off the top. My sleeveless PJ shirt went on without trouble, but I had my panties to my knees before realizing both legs were in a single leg hole. Reversing, I fixed that issue while laughing at myself.

  Once they were properly on, I blew hair off my forehead while regarding the shorts. Putting those on seemed like overkill, and way too much trouble. I shoved them under my pillow and managed to navigate my way under the covers.

  I was out like a light maybe three seconds later.

  Half-awake, I snuggled closer to Logan, happy to have a cuddle buddy. “You stayed.”

  “We had a deal.” He sounded drowsy, and patted my arm, which was across his waist. His othe
r arm was trapped between us. “My arm’s asleep.”

  “Sorry.” I kissed his shoulder and rolled onto my back. “I slept like a log.”

  “Not exactly.”

  I froze in mid-stretch. “Oh?”

  He opened his eyes and turned his head, the seriously cute grin I loved appearing on his face. “Don’t worry, nothing you said while under the influence will be held or used against you.”

  Oh, hell. What had I said? “I don’t remember anything.”

  “That’s probably for the best.” The flecks of gold in his eyes seemed to be dancing. “But the part about rap music was funny.”

  I didn’t like rap music, so why would I even talk about it? “What did I say about it?”

  Logan sat, rearranged his pillow against the headboard, and scooted until his back was against it. “I’m very clear on the fact that you don’t have any appreciation for that particular musical form.”

  I winced. “And?”

  “You made up your own rap, consisting of all the things you find offensive about it.” He tilted his head. “Words were said that I didn’t know you used.”

  I groaned, and pushed myself into sitting position. Unable to see his face, I scooted around to sit tailor-style. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t let fly with too many F-bombs.”

  “All I’m gonna say is, don’t plan on a rap career. Most of your songs would be bleeped out when played on the radio.”

  I cringed. “What else did I say?”

  Logan’s grin left the premises. “You told me how awful you’ve been feeling about not meeting all of your responsibilities, and swore that you were trying to do better.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t meant to publicize it. That frigging pain remedy apparently did double duty as a truth serum. “Well, yeah. I’ve been slacking on some things.”

  “I think you’re doing fine, under the circumstances.” Logan made a face. “We had a little argument about it.”

  Our first argument, and I didn’t remember a word of it. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel how you want to about things. But I do think you’re too hard on yourself, and I’m allowed to have that opinion. I’m just going to be more careful about sharing it, because you gave me an earful.” He patted my knee.