Utterly Charming

by Kristine Grayson

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Nora,” he said.

  “It was an honest question.”

  “I have a cell.” He took a business card from his pocket and threw it on the table. “I expect to hear from you.”

  “I don’t expect to hear from you.” Nora put her hand on his back, intending to lead him out of the apartment. It was the first time she had touched him deliberately in ten years. Through the fabric of his linen shirt, his back was smooth, tense. A jolt of energy ran through her, and he turned as if he had felt it too. His eyes softened as they gazed at her. She shoved him forward.

  He frowned, as if he weren’t quite sure what happened, took two steps, and nearly stumbled up the stairs leading to the door. She followed him. They both avoided the spot where Ealhswith had stood.

  “Please,” he said softly, as he glanced over Nora’s shoulder at Emma, “call me if she needs anything.”

  “I’m still not sure if you’re the good guy or the bad guy in all of this, Blackstone,” Nora said.

  “You don’t know how to take care of her,” he said.

  “It sounds like you don’t either.”

  “I at least have some abilities at my disposal.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Nora said. “Good-bye, Blackstone.”

  With one last look at Emma, he went through the door. “I’ll be in touch, Nora.”

  She closed the door after him, thinking it strange that he didn’t even try to say good-bye to Emma. She didn’t know if that was him being sensitive, since Emma so clearly wanted nothing to do with him, or if it was something else altogether, something Nora hadn’t yet figured out. She opted for the something else. Blackstone hadn’t exactly shown himself to be sensitive where Emma was concerned.

  Nora turned the dead bolt and put on the chain lock, even though she knew that would do no good against a determined Ealhswith. She wasn’t even sure it would do any good against Blackstone.

  She came back down the stairs and crossed to the couch. Emma had her face buried in her hands. Nora sat down in the armchair and poured them both some tea. The liquid still steamed. She held a cup in one hand and with the other, tapped Emma on the arm.

  “Here,” she said as Emma looked up. “This might help calm you.”

  Emma took the tea, holding the saucer as if she had never seen anything like it before. Nora picked hers up, then offered Emma some cream and sugar as well. Emma looked surprised at the milk in a little pitcher, the sugar in blocks, but said nothing. She shook her head slightly, refusing, and then took a loud, slurping sip of the tea.

  “Ah,” she said, “it feels as if it is cleaning cobwebs out of my mouth.”

  Nora didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t stop herself. How would a mouth feel after not tasting anything for a thousand years?

  Emma drank the entire cup and then looked at Nora. “Is it all right if I have some more?”

  Nora grinned. “That’s why I made it.” Simple things, that was what her father had once taught her. Simple things were the most important after a traumatic experience. They showed that the business of life continued. “Some bread too, if you like.”

  Emma picked up a piece and took an experimental bite. Then she smiled. “It is good.”

  “Yes,” Nora said. “It is.”

  They sat in silence for some time. When they were finished with the bread, Nora said, “I expect you might want some rest.”

  Emma shook her head. “I have been resting for a long time. Right now I need to remain awake, at least for a while.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” Nora said, “what happened with you and Blackstone?”

  She was more interested than she wanted to say. His reactions were so different from Emma’s. Nora had expected Emma’s hug when she saw him, but from that moment on, everything seemed different.

  Emma smiled for just a moment, and then the smile faded. “He was so different then,” she said. “Young. He was just a boy early in his magic.”

  “Why don’t you have any magic?”

  “Girls get theirs later, but it is more powerful when it comes. When I am fifty, I will gain my magic.”

  “And when do boys get theirs?”

  “When they reach twenty-one summers,” Emma said. “I met Aethelstan just after his twenty-first summer.”

  “And Ealhswith? She didn’t like him?”

  Emma cringed at the name. “Ealhswith wanted him for her own.”

  “She’s not your mother?”

  “No.”

  “But she is your guardian?”

  “My mentor,” Emma said. “My parents gave me to her when it became clear that I would have the power.”

  Nora poured herself another cup of tea. “But what’s the point of mentoring if you haven’t come into your magic yet?”

  “The magic arrives full strength,” Emma said. “You must know how to use it when it arrives or it could kill you.”

  “I don’t get it. How can you practice?”

  “You cannot. You must simply imagine it. Knowledge comes first, then the power, then control.”

  It all sounded very strange to Nora. “How did you meet Blackstone?”

  “I met him when I arrived in the village to see Ealhswith. He was the one who helped me find her. We saw each other every day after that.”

  “So you were with her a very short time.”

  Emma bowed her head. “Less than a month.”

  “Yet you learned several things about her magic.”

  “Not enough,” Emma whispered. “I had been warned that she would be jealous. I did not listen. I thought Aethelstan could be mine.”

  “Did you love him?” Nora found herself holding her breath after she asked the question.

  Emma sighed. “Perhaps. I certainly wanted to kiss him.” She raised her eyes. “That boy. Not this man.”

  Nora couldn’t imagine this. To Emma, only a day had passed. “How can you see the difference?”

  “He speaks in a way Aethelstan would not.”

  “It’s the language.”

  Emma shook her head. “It is the tone. And he moves like a man filled with anger. And there are lines on his face that were not there before.”

  “I thought magic could prevent that.”

  “Magic may slow it down,” Emma said. “But age happens to all of us.” She set her cup down. “I do not want to talk about this anymore. I need to learn where I am, and what I can do. And is this Sancho you work for really Ealhswith’s dwarf?”

  Nora took a deep breath. “That’s something we need to talk about,” she said. “I worked for Sancho—and I don’t know if he’s Ealhswith’s dwarf, but I had heard he was—but only to guard the microbus you were in. I’ve been thinking, since we had that altercation with all of your old friends, that you might want to hire me.”

  “Hire you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer.”

  Emma frowned. “You do not look like a lawyer.”

  Nora took a sip of tea, mostly to prevent Emma from seeing the bemused expression on her face. “What’s a lawyer supposed to look like?”

  “A fussy dry little man with squinty eyes, who is more concerned with rules than with people.”

  Nora almost said she was surprised that there were lawyers in Emma’s time, but then she remembered the mention of law and its keepers in the Bible. Hers was an old profession. “There are still men like that,” Nora said, “but there are people like me too.”

  “I do not need a lawyer,” Emma said.

  “What will you do then?” Nora set her cup down.

  Emma opened her mouth, as if she were going to answer, and then closed it again. A flush covered her skin.

  Nora put a hand on hers. “Lawyers have many purposes now. If you hire me, I can help you. I can protect you while you learn about this new world. I can keep Blackstone and Ealhswith away from you if that’s what you want, and I can do it all in a way that they have to follow.”

  “They follow their
own rules.”

  Nora smiled. Not after that little discussion she had had with them earlier. “Perhaps,” Nora said. “But they also need to follow mine. You can teach me their rules, and I’ll teach you ours, and together we’ll be quite a team.”

  Emma ran a hand over her face. “Everything is so different,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” Nora said, “it is.”

  Emma stood. She walked around the couch and headed to the windows, staring through the large plates of glass at the brick and concrete below. The bridges were visible over the river. The sky was bright blue, and the river reflected it. Portland looked beautiful, for a modern city. Did it look like a fairy-tale city to Emma? Something out of fanciful stories? Or did it look like a nightmare? Something only a demon could have imagined?

  Emma leaned her head against the glass. “I assume payment is still required in the hiring of a lawyer.”

  “Yes,” Nora said.

  “Then I cannot hire you. I have no coin, and no way of getting any.”

  Nora stood and walked to the window. She looked down, just as Emma was doing. Below them, people walked, men in suits and women in dresses. A couple in jeans had their arms around each other and their hands in each other’s back pockets.

  “We can defer payment,” Nora said. “In my capacity as a lawyer, I can help you find work.”

  Emma laughed. The sound was glorious, like the ringing of chimes. “You cannot find me work. I am unschooled in this world, unable to understand this place you live in and the carriages you use, let alone how to earn my keep.” She reached out and touched the sleeve on Nora’s shirt. “I do not even know how this fabric is made. I see no fireplace here, and do not know how you make your evening meal or even how you heated the water for the tea. I cannot do simple things. I do not know how I would work.”

  Nora smiled. “I have some ideas, if you’d let me work for you.”

  Emma leaned her shoulder against the glass. The blue skyline was visible behind her. It seemed, from Nora’s perspective, as if Emma were leaning against the sky.

  “Will I make you rich, then?” Emma asked.

  “I doubt it,” Nora said.

  “I do not understand, then, why you would like me to hire you.”

  Nora put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. It was rigid. The stress that she wasn’t showing was evident in her body.

  “You’re going to need help,” Nora said. “Whether it’s me or Sancho or Blackstone, someone is going to have to take care of you while you learn about the world you’re in. First of all, hiring me makes the choice yours. You are taking your first action on your own, as an adult in this century, not the century into which you were born. Secondly, by hiring me, you give me the ability to defend you in ways that I don’t have as your friend or the person you’re staying with or as someone you know. I’m a defender, a knight, for lack of a better term. I will be able to handle the intricacies of this century while you’re learning them.”

  “But you cannot protect me from Ealhswith.”

  “Yes, I can,” Nora said.

  “You have no magic.”

  “There are other ways to protect you from Ealhswith. We just have to find them. I’m sure, if we need magical protection, that Blackstone will help.”

  Emma turned away from Nora. “I am not sure if I want his help. He is part of what happened to me. He let me sleep for a thousand years.”

  “I know,” Nora said. “But he says he loves you.” Although he never did say that, at least, not in so many words.

  Emma shook her head. “And you, you know him. How can I trust you?”

  “I haven’t seen him for ten years,” Nora said. “I know him because his friend hired me. That’s all.”

  Emma looked out the window. She seemed forlorn.

  “If you don’t like my work,” Nora said, “you can fire me.”

  Emma put a hand against the glass. She did not say anything.

  “If you want,” Nora said, “I can find you another lawyer, someone else who will help you. It’ll take time. In my world, people do not believe in magic or curses or spells that last a thousand years.”

  Emma turned her head. Her eyes were sharp, flashing with anger. “Then why do you?”

  “Because I saw it in action. I tend not to deny the things I see.”

  “But others do.”

  Nora nodded.

  “Someone of your acquaintance saw the same thing and has denied it.”

  “Yes,” Nora said. “We would have to find someone else with a more open mind than that.”

  Emma closed her eyes. Her face was drawn, pale, paler than it had been when Nora found her. The girl needed care, not decision making. She needed help, whether she realized it or not.

  Something crashed in the living room. Nora turned to see Squidgy bolt across the room, Darnell behind. Darnell turned, ran toward the window, and tried to stop when he saw Emma. His little black cat legs pinwheeled, and then he managed to regain his feet only to find himself sliding into the wall.

  Emma knelt and caught him. Darnell looked at her with his large yellow eyes. Nora knew the look. It was Darnell sizing her up. Then he leaned his big black head on Emma’s shoulder and started to purr.

  Nora had never seen the cat go from panic to purr that fast. She looked at the coffee table. Her tea set was all over the floor. She wondered how much of it was broken. Halfway across the living room was a half-eaten piece of bread, the prize apparently that Squidgy had been going for. That cat liked anything made from dough.

  “You did not tell me that cats lived with you,” Emma said, running a hand along Darnell’s side.

  “Actually,” Nora said, sighing, “I think I live with them.”

  Emma smiled. “You protect them. This one is very soft.”

  “They’re not allowed outside. It’s too dangerous for them here.”

  “Cats are—were not considered pets in my world. To keep them was to be considered a witch.” Emma studied her over Darnell’s back. “Perhaps you do not know of your powers.”

  “I’m not fifty yet,” Nora said.

  “No,” Emma said. “Cats like you. Perhaps they know.”

  Nora shook her head. “If that were true, then over half the pet-owning families in America have witches.”

  “You sound as if that were unusual. It is not.”

  “You don’t know how many people there are in America.” Nora smiled and petted Darnell. He purred louder.

  Emma raised her chin slightly. “I will hire you, Nora Barr. But you will keep me apprised of the debt I am accruing. If I do not like what you are doing, then I will ask you to find me another defender. Is that agreeable to you?”

  “Yes,” Nora said.

  “Good,” Emma said. She hoisted Darnell on her shoulder. The cat was like a limp rag. “Now let us see what kind of damage the cats have done to your dishes.”

  She walked toward the living room, Darnell bouncing along as if he belonged cradled against her. Nora watched her go. This girl was not a girl, but a strong woman in a difficult situation. Nora wasn’t quite sure what she had gotten herself into, but she had a hunch it was like nothing she had ever done before.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Blackstone stepped out of the apartment building into the full force of Portland’s July heat. His fists were clenched and his muscles were tight.

  Something had gone very wrong inside that building. He still wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he knew that because of the events of the morning, his entire life had changed.

  He had expected—he had hoped—to see Emma, and when she and Nora left the stairs, everything had happened just as he’d planned. Well, almost. Emma had run into his arms, and she had felt so warm, so soft, and he had realized how much he missed her.

  But he hadn’t expected the look of hurt surprise on Nora’s face.

  Nora. He shook his head. She had messed everything up. Nora had kicked him out of the loft, and Emma had let her. He was o
fficially uninvited, just like Ealhswith, and that wasn’t good. Neither Emma nor Nora had magic, and even if they did, they wouldn’t know how to combat all those years of experience—nasty experience—that Ealhswith had.

  He shook his shoulders and made himself relax his fists. He took a deep breath. A woman passed him, clutching her purse to her side. She smiled at him. He didn’t smile back.

  Maybe he should go back up to the loft and get Emma out of there. He’d take her to his place and give her the information spell whether she wanted it or not.

  But that wouldn’t do any good. He had forgotten how stubborn Emma could be. He had forgotten many things about her, including her temper, which he’d seen flash in her eyes just a few moments ago.

  And she had every right to be mad at him. He was just beginning to realize what it meant to be in her shoes. He had thought he would give her that last magic spell, and life would go on as it had before. He hadn’t really thought what the loss of all those years would mean to her.

  Nor had he realized, until she turned those angry eyes on him, what he had done. In protecting Emma from Ealhswith, he had harmed Emma, and he hadn’t meant to.

  Blackstone sighed and crossed the sidewalk toward his car. The 1974 Lincoln was in storage—it was too distinct a car for a man in his position. Instead he drove a glimmering black Porsche that made him feel as if he had to fold himself into thirds every time he got inside of it.

  He wasn’t sure what Emma would think of this. He wasn’t sure about Emma at all. He kept looking to Nora for guidance—she had such wisdom for someone who’d only been on the earth thirty some years—but she was angry at him too. And justifiably.

  He ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure how to make this right, and he had to make things right. The Fates had told him Emma was his soul mate. And when he first saw her, with her lovely black hair and beautiful skin, he had believed them. He had believed them even though Emma had been living with Ealhswith. He had thought that he would rescue Emma, that he would teach her magic, and that together they would spend eternity in perfect harmony.

  Over the centuries he had forgotten so much about her. Everything, it seemed, except that she had been fun to kiss—until she had passed out and nearly died.