Unruly Magic (#2 Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  I reached under the table, my fingers fanned ready to take his hand and squeeze it happily, but as my palm brushed against the top of his hand I gasped as the restaurant disappeared and I found myself in the midst of flames, colours so intense and vivid in oranges and reds with licks of yellow as they flickered around me. I felt the air suck out of the pocket I was in and it rushed past me like a back draft encouraging the flames to leap and cavort. I turned, feeling like I was caught in slow motion as I felt fear and awe. I could feel the heat, the intensity calling me and then strong arms wrapped themselves around me and as I opened my mouth to call out, just as suddenly as it happened, I blinked and was back in the restaurant, Evan’s hand under one of mine, his fingers lacing their way through mine, my other hand gripping the edge of my seat, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of the moment.

  “Are you okay?” Evan asked, his face etched in concern as I tugged my fingers sharply from his.

  “Will you excuse me for a moment?” I said, pushing back my chair with an ungainly scrape and dropping my napkin on the table. I hurried to the bathroom as fast as I possibly could without breaking in to a jog.

  Installing myself in a cubicle, I felt my chest tighten in sudden panic as my thought processes caught up with the lurch I’d just felt. I couldn’t even fathom what had just happened except that it was terrible and awesome, intense and alive. My breath caught in my throat. And someone else had been there with me, wherever ‘there’ was. I gripped the basin with both hands and stared at my stricken reflection.

  “Are you okay?” came Étoile’s voice from outside the door.

  “Um, yeah, I’m fine.” My throat felt parched. I ran the water for a moment then straightened up and unbolted the door to step out.

  “You looked like you’d just seen a ghost.” She looked at me carefully. “You do look a bit pale. Are you sure there isn’t something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Oh no, it’s nothing. Probably just drank a bit too much.”

  “You hardly touched your wine.”

  “I’m fine, really.” How could I explain what had just happened?

  Étoile touched my arm with long fingers and her eyelids lowered as I let her draw from me what I had just experienced. Her face stayed expressionless and I wondered if she got an instant replay, or just snapshots.

  “You had a vision?” she murmured.

  “I don’t know what it was.” I shivered.

  “I think you saw some of the future.”

  “How? I can’t do that. You and Seren do stuff like that, not me.” I scanned the restroom. We were the only two in there, but I kept my voice low all the same. “I just zap myself places and move things.” But I knew it wasn’t true. I’d had a vision when I touched Chyler too.

  “And make magic from your natural energy. You heal, I remember that. And now you have visions too,” Étoile said, more to herself than me. She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it a bit until she achieved just the right volume.

  “I don’t understand it though. How can I be seeing the future?”

  “Possibly some latent psychic skills, or just a new manifestation of your power. What were you doing right before you had the vision?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I’d just put my wine glass down.”

  “Then?”

  “I touched Evan’s hand.”

  “Hmm. I think Evan was part of that vision. It’s something that involves you and him in the future.”

  “It seemed like we were on fire. I should be worried about that, right?” Like, really, really worried I wanted to ask. What if it was the Brotherhood? What if they had captured us both. I couldn’t bear to see Evan hurt, not at their hands.

  “I don’t think you were in danger. That’s not the impression I got.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It was fleeting.”

  “You need to work on your reassuring manner,” I snipped and immediately regretted it.

  “You’re not the first one to say that. Fortunately I’ll always believe I’m fabulous. Back to you though, are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Honestly, I’m fine. Let’s go back.” My hands were shaking slightly and I could feel the cold tingle of fear edging through my bones. I wanted to be near Evan, not far away from him. I wanted to put the vision out of my head, and leave my subconscious to deal with it. I hoped my subconscious had a witchy streak that would work it all out and deliver a satisfying cerebral message that would explain everything. The rest of me wasn’t holding out any hope. Damn it, I really needed a manual for this kind of stuff.

  “Take your time,” Étoile was saying. “David got Evan into a conversation about soccer and, really, no one needs to listen to that.”

  I grinned, relaxing. “We should probably save Seren then.”

  The bill was paid by the time we got back to the table and Evan leaned over to slip his arm around my chair, not mentioning my sudden flight. I made sure to only touch him with the parts of me that were covered; I wasn’t quite ready to experience the vision, or whatever it was, again. “Ready to go?” he whispered.

  I plastered on an agreeable smile. “Absolutely.”

  Our goodbyes were swift and whatever awkwardness had been there earlier was gone now. Just as the vague thought that I hadn’t thought about Chyler flitted across my mind, I stuffed it back down. I had never been entirely sure just how much Étoile or Seren could see into my brain, but I did know that when they were together their power amplified. I had to do some investigating before I could talk to them. For all the talk had been about the witches’ council, and the general mess it was in, I had no idea what the Winterstorms’ position was in all of it. As soon as I thought that I immediately felt mean. Part of me wanted to immediately tell them about Chyler and beg for their help. Another part of me wanted to understand what was going on before blurting out my little secret.

  “See you tomorrow,” said Étoile, dropping a kiss on each cheek and I waved a hand to Seren and David who had cosied up to each other.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re all here,” I said to Evan when we were alone as I buckled in. He turned the heating on and a warm blast of air hit me. “It’s been hell wondering about you all.”

  “No more hell.” Evan leant over and kissed me. He lingered his lips on mine and I relaxed against him. No vision, great.

  A few minutes later and we left the restaurant in our dust. When we had turned out of the last residential street, he asked me casually, “Have you been practising your magic at all?”

  I couldn’t help blushing and being glad he probably couldn’t see it in the twilight. Evan had once been my teacher, for only a few short weeks, before he’d become my lover too and we hadn’t had long together after that. I was only surprised that he hadn’t asked about my practice earlier. I squared up and confessed. “Not as much as I should have, but I do find things easier. And there haven’t been any accidents.”

  “Have you been round people much?”

  “Yes, but not in stressful ways. So maybe it doesn’t count for much.” Growing up I had had lots of unexplained accidents, so many that people actively avoided me. Every time I got stressed, or angry, or anxious, there would be someone to slip, stumble, or fall, or an accident just begging to happen. It left me tense and skittish, and people afraid of me. Accidents simply didn’t happen anymore. And it wasn’t just lack of stress, there was always stress thanks to the Brotherhood, but the day to day anxieties of life seemed to not affect me as much.

  “It counts,” Evan said after he’d taken a moment to mull it over. “It means you’re containing your magic. That was one of the things that made it so hard to find you. Not finding all those little traces, I mean. When I first met you, your magic used to hover all around you; it trailed wherever you went.”

  “I saw something like that with Marc. When Eleanor died, his magic came back and it was incredible.” Eleanor had spellbound Marc, her son, since he was an infant for her
own cruel, nefarious reasons. When she’d died the spell had been undone and the magic had rushed back to Marc. It had been bright and powerful and it had shone all around him like the most incredible aura. I wondered what it looked like now, whether it burned with that same intensity or whether he’d got it under control.

  “Right. I saw him at the hospital a couple of times. It hadn’t quite faded.”

  “You saw each other? How did that go?”

  “Fine. We didn’t have any long heart to hearts. He wanted to help look for you, so did Kitty, but she wasn’t well enough.”

  “I spoke to Kitty earlier.”

  “I bet she was thrilled.” He glanced away from the road for just a moment to look at me, his mouth curving into a smile.

  “I was too.” I thought for a moment, than tentatively asked, “How come I don’t see anyone else’s magic?”

  “It’s one of the easiest ways to spot a witch. All that magic untamed shows itself as a bright light. Witches are taught to keep it under control, to not let it leak out. You’re doing a good job of keeping yours controlled.”

  “I’m not trying.”

  “That’s even better. It means it’s just your natural state, rather than something you’re trying to force on yourself.”

  “That’s a good thing?”

  Evan nodded. “Definitely. You shouldn’t have to be concentrating on containing your magic, you just need to harness it and make sure it’s always there to bend to your will. It should be something that’s so automatic, it barely takes any of your reserve energy.”

  “How did it... how did I get like this?”

  “Accepting it and embracing magic are two big steps. Training is another. Realising your power and controlling it is the last step. You just need to practice now.”

  “Always the teacher.”

  Evan grinned, shadows from the street lamps passing over his face. “You better believe it.”

  “How come I’ve never seen your magic?”

  “Mine isn’t like witch magic. It doesn’t show. You’ll be able to recognise me, and my kind, in other ways.”

  Evan turned the car on to the long road that led up to my house. After a few minutes the tree line broke and I could see the bar that nestled there. Tonight it was all lit up inside and I could hear music drifting over the lot. I could see Annalise’s car and just as we flashed by I thought I caught sight of Gage standing on the veranda that circled the building. I frowned.

  “You ever been in there?” asked Evan, glancing over at me.

  I shook my head. “I think it’s some kind of members’ club. You have to know someone to get in. Don’t you think that’s strange? Who would have a member’s club out here?” And how come Gage and Annalise were there? But I couldn’t ask Evan that.

  A few minutes later and we were on my drive and Evan parked next to my car.

  “Yours?” he asked nodding to my little car.

  “There’s not much in the way of public transport here. It’s kind of a necessity.” It also explained why I wasn’t feeling as fit as I used to but I wasn’t going to say that either. I’d have to up my running soon to stop the softness that I imagined was creeping up on me. Pre-emptive exercise was better than too late exercise.

  “You don’t shimmer?”

  “I didn’t think that would be okay. You know shimmering down to the market then flashing out of the parking lot.” I could imagine a few freaked out Wilding faces at that.

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it all though,” pointed out Evan. “You need to keep your magic strong and the more you practice the easier it will come to you.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, I get it. No more being a magic slob.” I laughed when he gathered me up in his hands like I weighed nothing and skipped up the steps. There was a moment of awkwardness as I grappled with the key and the lock, then we were inside and kissing furiously, all thoughts of visions gone replaced by very welcome touching. We didn’t quite make it to the bed but the sofa welcomed us like old friends as clothes flew in our wake.

  Later, laying in bed with a sliver of moonlight streaking over us, Evan told me of daemons and their place in the world and I struggled to absorb the enormity of what shared the world with so many oblivious humans. Later, as I was on the edge of sleep, he whispered how much he loved me before his language switched to an ancient tongue that lulled me as I drifted away.

  My dreams were full that night, not of terror and death as I’d been afraid of, but instead there was me and Evan and I felt free at least. But when I held him in the dream world I could see, over his shoulder, Gage looking at me, and when my eyes met his, I trembled. It wasn’t the surprise of seeing him there; it was that I didn’t dare get close enough to see what his eyes would reflect of mine.

  Eight

  I stood, hands on hips, in the centre of the road and stared far into the distance. For the first time I’d ran to where the thick, dense tree line broke and now there was nothing for miles and miles and miles but green fields split neatly in two by the tarmac that snaked its way towards the cold winter horizon. There was a threat of rain in the air and a freezing light wind so I tugged the zipper of my jacket up until it was snug under my chin. The temptation to join a gym that I could drive to, and exercise in cute sweats before hitting the hot showers, was never stronger than it was now.

  “What are you doing?” said a girl’s voice behind me and I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. Turning round I saw Chyler stood there, her hands thrust into her pockets.

  “Running,” I replied, breathing in and out to slow down my heart. I’d just about recovered from the run when she’d given me an impromptu heart rate test.

  “On the spot?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Um, no. Taking a breather.”

  “Don’t you go to a gym?” Chyler had a slightly nasal voice that made everything sound like she was completely grossed out. She probably listed it as a skill on her resume. “With a running machine or something?”

  “How could that be better than out here?” I looked around me. Okay, she definitely had a point and no amount of protesting would make up for the lack of glossy equipment and a pumping soundtrack, not to mention heating, but personal pride made me obstinate.

  “It would be warm.” Chyler smirked then shivered in her thick padded coat which reminded me I was only wearing thin layers of jersey. I had relied on running to keep out the cold and now I was stood still, cooling rapidly. I tried to envisage warmth. I failed.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “The book,” she said.

  “Where is it?”

  “I told it to hide.” She shrugged but didn’t expand further and for a moment I thought she was a frightened little girl, not a snarky kid, when she said, “It’s not safe.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  Chyler hesitated. “A hotel.”

  “Where are you really staying?” I gave her my special no nonsense look that I usually reserved for temp employers who thought their business deserved special rates, and waited for her to wither.

  Chyler rolled her eyes. “In an abandoned house, somewhere over there I think.” She flapped a hand in a vaguely easterly direction. I noticed her manicure was chipping at the edges.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Same way as yesterday. I said the same spell from the book. Look, can you do me a favour? That’s why I came.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her directness. Now we were getting somewhere. “What kind of favour?”

  “Can you get a message to my mom? Tell her I’m okay. I don’t want her to worry.”

  “Chyler, I...” I did not know how to tell her; I’d never had to break news of a death before. Plus I was worried about what I’d been told yesterday. My friends thought Chyler had killed her mother, yet Chyler was asking me to get a message to her and my vision fuzzed everthing. Something was really, really wrong with this picture. I looked at her, my heart thumping, and drew a br
eath that I exhaled into a sigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Some friends came to see me yesterday.” I gestured to a fallen tree by the side of the road and even though Chyler looked at it with distaste, like sitting on a fallen tree trunk was something only hobos did but she sat on it next to me anyway, her knees bumping together as she shivered. “Chyler, they told me that your mother was dead.”

  “What? Why would they come all the way here to tell you that? My mom... she’s dead?” She sat looking at her feet for a long, uncomfortable few minutes in which I wondered whether I should hug her or do something comforting. I started to reach over to pat her shoulder but she pulled away, her lip quivering.

  “I’m so sorry, Chyler.” I waited for a moment just to see if she was listening, then told her, “They were looking for you. They guessed you might want a witch who was on the outside to help you.”

  “Were they worried about me? Are these friends of yours going to help me?”

  There was no easy way of putting it so I blurted. “They think you killed your mom.”

  “I, like, totally didn’t!” Chyler’s jaw dropped open in disgust. She jumped to her feet and paced backwards and forwards. After a minute, she stopped next to the tree trunk and stared me down. “You believe me, right?”

  I barely moved my shoulders when I shrugged. “I want to, but someone killed your mother. Did anyone have motive?”

  ‘Only everyone who wanted the book.’ Chyler sniffed. “How did my mom die?”