Spell of Shattering

by Anna Abner

  He moved in her direction, and she got the insane idea he was going to kiss her. The notion was like fuel to a fire she hadn’t even known was banked inside her. She wanted to kiss him. If he ran off to Alaska again without warning, which she assumed he would at the first opportunity, this may be her only chance.

  But he hesitated.

  “What is it?” she breathed.

  “I want to kiss you.” As if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, he started banging skillets around, turning on the water in the sink rather than face her.

  In response, she said something just as absurd and off the top of her head. “That would be okay with me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Derek froze at the sink, unable to process Jessa’s words. Kissing would be okay with her? He rubbed absently at the goose bumps rising on his arms and turned off the faucet, forgetting about dishes and breakfast.

  Eventually, though, reason won out. “No.” He shook his head forcefully. “We can’t.”

  She huffed a confused laugh. “You’re not into me, right? I get it. I just thought…”

  “I’m filthy,” he said to spare her feelings. It was the least insulting adjective he could imagine for himself.

  If Jessa knew what he’d done, if she could see inside his soul, she would lose his number. She’d never speak to him again. Worse, she would hide from him. Because he was tainted inside. He was dangerous.

  “You just had a shower,” she countered, frowning.

  “No.” Bless her sweet, kind heart. It was further evidence she was worth ten of him. “I’m dirty on the inside.” Soiled, through and through. “I’ve done terrible things.”

  “That’s crap,” she exclaimed. “You are a lot of things, Derek Walker, but dirty isn’t one of them. Besides, if I thought for one second you weren’t a good person, I never would have let you stay here.”

  He tried to argue, to explain, but the words jammed.

  “Besides, I’m not asking for your rap sheet,” she said with an amused chuckle. “I’m only looking for a kiss.”

  He stared at her, unable to process the reaction her words caused inside him. The muscles in his abdomen tensed, and he ran a hand through his hair as he remembered exactly what her mouth tasted like.

  “What are you afraid of?” she asked, approaching slowly as if worried he would bolt. “I want to kiss you.” She got so close he smelled her citrus shampoo and felt her hip against his knuckles. “You want to kiss me.” He tried to back up, but she trapped him against the counter. “What’s the big deal?”

  Lost somewhere between desire and panic, Derek lifted his palms in surrender. But Jessa, apparently, didn’t understand the gesture because she grabbed both his hands and pressed her torso against his.

  She kissed him, her lips fitting perfectly against his. As if they were made to kiss. He couldn’t believe he’d ever forgotten this. Her sweet breath, her velvety skin, her heat. She tasted like home and sunshine and sanctuary. His tongue danced across her lower lip and then delved deeper, searching. Her mouth was wet and warm, and he craved more. He craved every inch of her.

  With a groan, he spun her and lifted her rear end upon the counter. She yelped in surprise, and then threw her arms around his neck. She was made taller than him by a few inches, and he stretched up on his toes to capture her mouth again.

  He ran his hands slowly around her waist, memorizing every hill and valley. Every sweet, soft inch of her. She was honey.

  “This is your idea of helping her?” Jolie asked through the kitchen window.

  Derek dropped flat upon his feet and broke the kiss. His instincts screamed at the interruption.

  “Damn it,” he swore at a furious Jolie. “I am helping her.”

  Gently, Jessa framed his face with her hands. “Who are you talking to?”

  “No one.” He kissed her again, but the magic was gone. All he could think about was Jolie judging him. As if helping Jessa weren’t all he cared about.

  “Stop kissing her and do something!” Jolie shrieked. The entire room vibrated. Dishes rattled in their cupboards. A pen on the counter rolled onto the linoleum floor.

  He’d never seen a spirit affect the physical world in such a dramatic way. He recalled the floors moving the last time she got angry. And the raw strength in her power was unlike any other spirit he’d channeled.

  A witch’s spirit. He wasn’t sure if she was lucky or really, really cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessa asked, keeping his face in her small, silken hands.

  He resisted the urge to rub his cheeks against her palms. “I don’t know,” he admitted. His thoughts were scattered and nearly impossible to sort. He honestly couldn’t fathom where the passion was coming from, didn’t comprehend how Jessa brought it out in him. But he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

  He helped her off the counter, her body dragging down the length of his, and then he escaped into the living room.

  “Don’t walk away from me,” Jessa said, chasing him. “You never touched me like that before your accident.” She rubbed absently at her lips.

  He knew what she was going to say. He’d heard it a million times. Men who decorated couldn’t be straight.

  “I’m not gay.”

  “I never thought you were.” She laughed, crossing her arms tightly. For a moment, his gaze was caught on her nipples, high and pushing against her T-shirt. He swallowed, forcing himself to look away. To focus.

  Jessa added, “I saw the way you stared at me. Gay guys don’t stare at girls that way.” She shrugged. “But I kissed you once in the utility closet and you acted like…” Flushing she ducked her head.

  “Acted like what?” he asked, suddenly curious.

  “You don’t remember?” She returned to the kitchen, poked at her now cold eggs, and then started making coffee.

  Did Holden have to steal everything? “Tell me what happened.”

  “We were at a real estate mixer with Rebecca,” she said, refusing to look at him as she measured the grounds and filled a carafe with tap water. “We’d all been drinking champagne. And then we were doing shots in the limo.” She pressed buttons, making little beeps. “You and I went into the closet to get our coats and call taxis. You were just so cute, and neither of us could stop smiling. You held my coat for me, and I thought it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done.” She snorted in derision. Finished with the coffee, she pulled mugs from the cupboard. “I went in for a kiss. You were nice about it, but it was very, very obvious you weren’t into it.”

  He couldn’t imagine not wanting to kiss Jessa. “I don’t remember.”

  “It’s fine.” She shrugged as if it didn’t bother her, but he could read the pain and embarrassment in her face.

  She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to him. “Do you still take cream and sugar?”

  “Black.” He accepted the cup, and the rich, dark flavor swept away some of the cobwebs. “Thank you.”

  “I’m not complaining exactly,” Jessa said, “But what’s with the sudden urge to kiss me? I know why I want to. I’ve had a crush on you for years,” she said in a rush, “and this could be my last chance with you, but you weren’t like this before.”

  “I have a lot of holes in my memory,” Derek answered, his thoughts stuck on the words crush and last chance. “Being around you fills some of them in.”

  “What kind of memories?” she asked.

  “Kissing.” Uncomfortable heat inched up his chest and neck. “Other stuff.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Before you got here you couldn’t remember kissing?”

  He shook his head.

  “How much or with whom?”

  “As in,” he said with difficulty, “anything.”

  “So when we…”

  He nodded. “You help me remember.”

  “Huh.” A smile crept across her face. “That’s kind of cool.”

  The television made a prolonged bell tone, and Derek leaned around the kitchen wall
to investigate. Red and yellow warning labels covered the TV screen.

  “Hurricane Hadley is on its way north,” announced a reporter in a grave tone. “Despite all hope to the contrary, it is increasing in both size and strength. The category three hurricane will hit eastern North Carolina between noon and ten p.m. on Friday. Everyone should have a seventy-two hour emergency kit packed. Residents in low-lying areas must evacuate. All cities and counties requiring evacuations are on your screen now.”

  “Not good.” Derek couldn’t help wonder if it was a coincidence—his return to town and the raising of the Chaos Gate in the same week as a massive hurricane.

  “Don’t worry,” Jessa said. “They’ll probably downgrade it before it reaches us. And if it doesn’t,” she assured with a smile, “we’ll get out of town for a couple days.”

  Derek didn’t tell her that may not be possible. Instead, he said, “I’m going to use the bathroom.” He left his half-finished meal next to the sink and slipped into Jessa’s bedroom. The first thing he noticed, because he nearly stepped right on it, was a pile of torn pages. They looked like real estate contracts.

  “What’s this?” Derek asked, bringing the mess to Jessa in the kitchen.

  She set her mug down. “The mayor’s offer on your house.”

  “I don’t care about money,” he grumbled. Because, as the only child of ridiculously rich parents, he’d never needed to.

  “I do,” Jessa countered.

  He scowled, not believing her. “What is this really about?”

  She sighed, long and loudly. “I am, was,” she corrected, “a junior agent at Ryan Rohmer’s office. I made him coffee. I filed stuff. I ran errands. It’s not where I see myself in five years,” she said, her tone softening. “And this deal,” she said, gesturing toward the paper, “was gonna help me break out of my contract with Ryan. With the commission and the deal under my belt, I could’ve stepped out as a full-fledged agent with my own clients. Now,” deep sigh, “I can’t.”

  “That’s what Paul promised you?” he asked. Surely there was another way to jumpstart her real estate career without hopping into bed with the Dark Caster.

  “No. Paul doesn’t know anything about my job. Ryan promised me a full-time position if I sealed this deal.”

  Derek stared at the paper scraps. “It’s not your fault. Paul manipulated you. He’s very good at it.”

  “Not much of a consolation,” she said.

  “Just promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

  “Of course.” She stared forlornly at the mess and then swept it all into a trashcan.

  Derek’s phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen. He was tempted to ignore it, but answered it anyway.

  “Hi, this is Willow,” greeted a light, feminine voice. “I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Raleigh coven. You and Jessa need to be there.”

  He glanced at Jessa, but instead, he made eye contact with the demon clinging to her shoulders.

  “It’s too dangerous to travel right now,” he said. “The spell is almost finished.” And then Jessa would be possessed by a demon. His chest constricted, making breathing difficult, let alone speaking. “I’ll only bring her if you can break the summoning spell.”

  “We can talk about it,” Willow said. “Can you meet at Sparky’s? It’s close to you, right?”

  Yeah, it was ten minutes away at the most. He supposed they could risk a short trip into town as long as he spelled the car first. With enough time, he’d spell the entire apartment complex.

  “I thought you were in Raleigh?” he asked.

  “We’re staying at Holden’s until this is all settled,” Willow said. “Can you be there, or not?”

  “What do you need from me?” He didn’t trust the witches and casters in the coven. He wasn’t sure if this wasn’t a summons to administer some kind of punishment to him. Or take away Jessa.

  He gripped the edge of the counter so hard the juncture cut into his palm. The sharp stab of pain helped clear his head.

  No one was taking Jessa away from him. Not the Raleigh coven. Not the mayor. No one.

  “You know more than anyone else about the Dark Caster,” she said. “Your magic is all wrapped up in this summoning spell. Maybe you have extra power to stop it.”

  He felt his throat closing up at the thought of being even a little bit responsible for the spell attacking Jessa, but he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d attempted a summoning spell in April, but he’d never tried breaking one. If the Raleigh coven could save her, he would put up with them in order to do it.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll be there.” He hung up without saying good-bye.

  “Who was on the phone?” Jessa asked, frowning.

  “The coven,” he said. “They’ve called a meeting.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter once, and then knew what to do. “I have more spells to cast,” he declared, spinning on his heel and marching for the door. “Stay inside until I come back.”

  * * *

  Jolie floated outside the second floor window and fumed silently.

  Not only had she been banished from Jessa’s—which pissed her off—but she was forced to watch a man seduce her sister when he should be casting spells.

  So what if Derek threw up barriers to strange spirits and protective shields on Jessa’s apartment and car? Her sister had a demon literally scratching at her back. She needed real help.

  “Why aren’t you doing more?” Jolie demanded of Derek as he jogged downstairs. Why wasn’t he getting rid of the demon? Why weren’t there dozens of people in the room throwing magic torpedoes at it?

  Why couldn’t he write an amendment to the spell to let her inside?

  “I’m doing all I can,” he replied.

  “That’s crap, and you know it! Get rid of the demon already.”

  He drew glyphs on the four corners of a shiny new BMW parked in front of the building. With a permanent marker.

  “Whose car is that?” she exclaimed. Was he trying to get arrested?

  “Jessa’s,” he grunted.

  “You bought her a brand new Beemer?”

  “Yes. Can we shield it now?” He sent her a frustrated look. “Please?”

  “No.” She folded her arms. “Not until I get some answers.”

  After scanning the parking lot, Derek crossed his arms too. “Fine.”

  “Why won’t you get the demon off her?”

  He sighed, and his arms dropped to his sides. “It’s not that simple. The spell’s too powerful.”

  “Why can’t you let me in with a loophole or something in your shield spell?” she asked, trying to play it cool and not reveal how hurtful the entire situation was. “It sucks being on the outside looking in.”

  “Then other spirits could find a way in.” Derek’s gaze traveled the periphery. “I already let your voice through.”

  “Well, you need to stop hitting on my sister. I was there when she wouldn’t leave your hospital room. She doesn’t need that kind of pain right now.”

  “You were there too?”

  “Your accident was in April. I died in January, genius. You were at my funeral.”

  “I was?”

  “You don’t remember?” Gee, thanks. “You went to support Jessa.”

  “How did you die?”

  “None of your business! The only reason I’m here is you can hear me and I need you to protect my sister. That’s it. We’re not sharing stories, or anything else. Just stay away from Jessa.”

  “Being around Jessa helps me remember things.”

  “So, she’s just one step on your road to recovery? And then what?” She wanted to hit something. He was so exasperating. “If you can’t get the demon off her, than who can?”

  “Maybe the coven,” he said.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” She sent him waves of power, and he cast more than one shield spell around the car.

  Without even a thank you, he bounded up the stairs and reappeared minut
es later with Jessa in tow. She was freshly showered and dressed in trousers and Jolie’s old raincoat, which only made the demon over her shoulder stand out in contrast.

  Derek opened the car door for her, and shut it when she was safely inside. Although safe was a relative term. Jessa wasn’t safe until the demon was firmly back in hell where it belonged.

  “Aren’t you going to be late?” she asked.

  Derek waved the idea away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

  “You don’t like the coven, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, so why don’t you go after the caster on your own?”

  “The summoning spell is too powerful,” he said, hesitating to open the driver’s side door. “The only way to break it is to find the necromancer casting it.”

  “I’ll find him,” she said, excited to be of help.

  Derek shook his head. “He could literally be anywhere.”

  “No,” she countered. “He’s probably in town. He’s probably a friend of the mayor’s. He’ll have to cast for long periods of time. So, I’ll search for spirits and see what I find.”

  “But I need you here,” he said, “in case something happens.”

  Oh, to be two people. “I’ll do both,” she said. “I’ll hunt around, but I’ll pop in and out.”

  Jessa knocked on the window to get Derek’s attention, and he opened the drivers’ side door.

  But Jolie needed one more assurance from him. “When you find the caster responsible, will you kill him?” Because a person who would put a demon in her sister was a person who needed to die. Jessa was an innocent. She hadn’t hurt anyone or caused anyone pain in her entire life.

  He sent her a long, uneasy look. “I won’t go back to the man I was.”

  Without allowing her to respond, he climbed into the car and started it up.

  As Derek’s vehicle disappeared around another building, Jolie spun up in the air and floated over the city, searching for any signs of magic. She wasn’t very experienced in all this stuff, but she had to try.

  Nothing obvious jumped out at her, so she dropped closer to street level and searched several busy intersections. The only structure she found filled with ghosts was Holden’s diner, and that wasn’t helpful. She zipped over a couple more streets without seeing anything noteworthy, and then she stopped, closed her eyes and willed herself into Sparky’s diner.