by M. J. Scott
His headshake was dismissive. "What did Cassandra say? Can she help?"
"Yes. Maybe. We can head over there in a minute." I patted the pocket with the silk-wrapped ring a little nervously.
"Don't you want to go now?"
"There's something I need to talk to you about first." I pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. "Maybe you should sit down."
He sat slowly. "Is this the conversation you've been ducking since last night?" His eyes seemed to be a cooler shade of blue.
I took a seat across from him, picked up a napkin ring to distract myself with. "I guess."
"Am I going to like it?"
I made myself meet his eyes. Cool. Very cool. "I don't know."
"Then you'd better tell me."
"Will you promise to hear me out before you say anything?"
He frowned. "All right. This isn't a 'Dear Damon' speech, is it?"
I managed half a smile. Because half of me was afraid that after he heard what I had to say, I might be the one getting dumped. "No."
"Then what?" He leaned back in his chair, the fingers of his right hand drumming a tattoo on his thigh.
"I don't know if your background check on me showed this, but I'll assume it didn't. My mother was a witch."
He went very still. I couldn't read a thing from him.
"Go on."
I sent the napkin ring spinning. "The thing is . . . the thing is, it turns out that maybe so am I."
Chapter Fourteen
The napkin ring spun and spun, the whirring clatter the only noise in the room as Damon stared at me, disbelief clear on his face.
Eventually I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped my hand over the ring. "Say something." The edge of the plastic dug into my palm as I willed him to say, “It's okay.”
Silence.
Until he pushed back his chair with enough force that it almost fell to the ground before he caught it and jerked it back into place. My heart went into free fall. Somehow I didn't think he'd be reaching to catch that.
"Say something. Please." My voice came from far away.
"Like what? Congratulations?" His voice was strained. Tension rode his neck and shoulders. Maybe I'd been wrong when I'd told Cassandra he wasn't anti-magic.
I closed my hand around the napkin ring and the pain increased. Somehow physical discomfort was a welcome distraction. "I didn't say I was happy about it."
I thought I saw his shoulders relax, just a fraction of an inch. "You're not?"
"No. This is the last thing I want."
His knuckles were white where he gripped the chair. "Is that why you didn't tell me?"
I hesitated, not knowing what to say when there was so much riding on how he might react to the answer. "I didn't tell you because I needed some time to deal with it by myself first. That's all." My fingers were turning numb. I forced myself to open my hand. The vivid red imprint of the napkin ring stood out like a burn. The sensation as the blood rushed back in to my hand burned too.
"You do that a lot." Damon was staring at my hand, not meeting my eyes.
"What?" I rubbed my palm, trying to ease the ache.
"Deal with things yourself." He lowered himself back onto the chair.
"I'm not sure I—"
"You sleep with me, you need some time. You find out you're a witch, you need some time. Do you ever let people in? Ever turn to them first?"
My spine stiffened. "And if I'd turned to you last night? Told you I was a witch? Would your reaction have been better than it is now?"
His face went very still. Then he cleared his throat. "I don't know."
"That's why I needed the time. I didn't know how you were going to take it. I didn't want to—" I stopped myself. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was slow to let people in. But Sara had taught me to be cautious, shown me that life could be messy and nasty and that lots of people would go to extremes to get what they wanted, no matter who they might hurt. Losing my grandparents to the quake had reinforced those lessons. I'd learned well enough that the fact that I wanted to let Damon in so fast, that I didn't want to lose him, scared me silly.
"Didn't want to what?"
I shook my head. "Look, I was scared. And freaked out and, honestly, kind of spaced out from the drugs. I made a choice. Maybe it wasn't the greatest choice in the world, but it wasn't exactly a normal situation. So maybe you could cut me some slack?" I looked across at him, into those blue eyes that suddenly seemed so distant, willing him to understand.
"Is there anything else you haven't told me about last night?"
I swallowed, feeling like I was standing on the edge of a cliff that was beginning to crumble beneath my feet. I had no idea how to get back to solid ground. "Yes."
"What?"
"The truth, the whole truth, so help me whoever?"
He nodded curtly. "If it's not too much trouble."
I knew I had to tell him. A lie now would ruin any slim chance we might still have of making something out of whatever this was between us. But I couldn't help feeling like the truth might just have the same effect.
Time to choose again.
I took a deep breath and told him about the demon.
The car echoed with silence as Damon drove us to Cassandra's. Too much silence. It made me want to babble stupidly to fill the yawning empty space between us.
"I could go by myself. Drop me off anywhere. I'll catch a cab," I said for about the third time since I'd finished my confession slash explanation slash half-garbled lesson on what little I knew about demons.
"Don't be ridiculous."
Exact same answer. Third time in a row. The only thing that had changed was his tone growing colder with each reply. Not a good sign.
I twisted in my seat so I was facing him. "You're quiet."
"You gave me quite a lot to think about." He gunned the engine, waiting for the light to turn green.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." I'd said that about five times already. Apparently we were trapped in the conversation from hell.
"Don't worry about it." We roared through the intersection, the speed making me wonder if he was trying to get airborne down the hill. Or maybe just scare the crap out of me. He was certainly succeeding at the latter; my knuckles were white where they wrapped around the armrest.
"Cassandra isn't going to close the store before we get there," I managed through gritted teeth as we just made it through another set of lights.
"I'm sure she won't."
"Then can you slow down a bit? I get that you're mad, but I'd rather not die just now."
"I'm not mad."
That was a big fat lie. But he did ease off the accelerator. Which left me free to concentrate fully on just how mad he might be. And how the hell I was going to get him to talk about it?
Cassandra took one look at us and insisted on making us tea upstairs.
"You'll like this," she said, handing us mugs. "It's very calming." Her tone suggested it had better be.
I took the mug and sniffed gingerly. Nothing suspicious, just the usual wet grass and green things smell of herbal tea.
Damon didn't look any happier with his than I was, but he took a sip. Then another. I tried not to watch him too closely, but I still noticed when he eased back ever so slightly on the sofa.
I didn’t want to push him. He needed to process. So I turned to Cassandra.
"Did you bring something that belongs to your friend?" she asked.
I handed over the small silk-wrapped ring. "Yes. Nat wears this most days."
Cassandra put the bundle down gently, then placed her hands on either side. "But not today?"
"She didn't have it on at the club last night. She doesn't wear rings when she games."
"All right." She peeled back the silk. The ring—a twining band of silver leaves—looked tiny against the expanse of fabric. Thin and fragile.
Please let her be okay.
"What's her full name?"
"Natalia Imogen Marcos."
Ca
ssandra nodded, then closed her fingers around the ring. Her eyes took on a faraway expression.
I stayed still, not wanting to do anything to disturb her. It wasn't easy. As the seconds ticked by, a weird pins-and-needles sensation flowed across my skin. I wanted to scratch something—though I didn't know exactly what—but I didn't want to risk distracting Cassandra.
Damon watched Cassandra too, his face arranged in the same distant mask it had worn in the car. I wondered if he ever played poker. Apart from “not happy,” I didn't have a clue what he was thinking or feeling.
After about five minutes, Cassandra took a deep breath and opened her hand. The ring looked exactly as it had. "I'm sorry, Maggie. I'm not getting anything."
I looked at the silver leaves in dismay. "What does that mean?"
"She might be out of my range. She might be—"
"Dead?" I whispered. Damon started to move toward me but stopped, which did nothing to ease the dread crawling my skin and gripping my lungs.
"No." Cassandra shook her head decisively. "No, I don't think so. She might be shielded."
"Shielded by what?" Was there something that could block attempts to do a location spell or whatever it was Cassandra did?
"That's the million-dollar question," Cassandra said. "I need to think about this. I have some friends who may help. One of them is better than me at locating."
She put the ring down on the scarf and wrapped it back up without touching the metal. "I'll keep this for now."
"No problem." It made more sense for Cassandra to keep it. Then I wouldn't have to bring it back here again if she needed it. Presumably the less contact it had with other people, the better, so me carting it around in my purse seemed unlikely to be helpful. The worst thing that could happen would be Nat turning up and me having to explain where her favorite ring was. I'd happily take any shit she might give me for handing it over to a stranger if that happened.
"Good. Now, seeing as we can't go any further in this direction for the time being, perhaps we should talk about you."
"Me?" I swallowed tea too fast and began to cough.
"You need training."
That pronouncement didn't help me get my breath back. It was true, maybe, but truth wasn’t always what a girl wanted to hear.
I slanted a glance at Damon. No change in the poker face. Apparently the announcement that I needed to learn some magic hadn't improved his mood. It hadn't really improved mine either, but I wasn't stupid. I killed the imp through sheer dumb luck. If more things like that—or worse—could be coming after me, I needed to know what I was doing, even if I didn't like it.
"Right now?"
Cassandra nodded firmly. "The sooner, the better."
Damon stood. "I'll head back to the office, see how the search is going."
"Not just yet," Cassandra said, holding up a finger. Damon stayed still as she rose.
Ice Bitch Queen versus Master of the Universe round two. If I hadn't been so tense, I might’ve enjoyed it. As long as I didn't have to put money on who might win.
Blue eyes clashed with brown. Cassandra stood her ground, arms folded against her floral-cotton-covered chest.
Damon didn't budge either. "I can't do anything here."
"No, but there are some things you need to know. Maggie told you what’s happening?"
His gaze flicked toward me for a second, then focused back on Cassandra. "She told me she was a witch. That she was bound to a demon."
I tried not to wince at the disapproval in his voice.
She smoothed a hand over her bun. "Yes. And because of that, you need to know how to protect yourself."
This time the folded arms were his. "From what?
"If the demon is trying to recapture Maggie, it will use any method it can think of. It may try for those close to her."
"How would it know who I was?"
Good question. And the better one was, why hadn't Cassandra told me this yesterday? Or earlier? I hit her with the same sort of flat stare as Damon. It had about as much impact on her as his did.
"While the binding was active, it would've had an awareness of the people in Maggie's life. Demons are very intelligent."
"Then wouldn't anything I do to protect myself be a waste of time?"
Cassandra clucked her tongue denial. "Intelligence doesn't mean they don't have limits. Let's go downstairs and I'll give you a few things that may help." She turned to me and made a “hurry up, get your butt off the sofa” gesture.
I stood and managed to not actually wobble despite my legs feeling like not-quite-set Jell-O. I didn't think Damon would leap to help me if I stumbled, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself.
We all trooped back downstairs with me in the lead.
I took two steps onto the shop floor, then froze. Cassandra almost cannoned into me.
"What?" she said with a snap in her tone.
I pointed at the door. The open door.
And the creature that hovered, drooling black slime, at the threshold.
Another nightmare—an imp? I didn't know if that was right, but I knew it was nothing good. The sight of it brought an immediate rush of fear, souring my mouth and cramping my stomach.
I flung out a hand instinctively.
Cassandra smacked my arm down. "Don't be an idiot. You don't know what you're doing."
"What is that?" Damon demanded as he moved to stand beside us.
"An imp. Don't go any closer," Cassandra warned as he stepped forward.
He obeyed but didn't look happy. "Why is it just standing there?"
"This shop is well warded. It can't cross." She raised a hand and the door swung shut with a thump, knocking the imp back a pace. Its mouth opened and a gibbering moan came from behind the glass.
My brain kicked back in as the fear receded. Apparently I equated glass with safety, which seemed overly optimistic, really.
I stared at the critter as it pressed closer, leaving a greasy smear as it dragged a misshapen limb down the glass, still moaning. An imp. Like last night. Which meant it could be killed.
I looked at Cassandra, waiting for instructions.
She was watching the imp's movements with a smug smile. "Just opening the door would've hurt it."
The creature hissed and chattered outside the door.
"It doesn't look hurt." I stared at it warily. It didn't look exactly like the creature from the night before. Fewer legs, for a start. And it wasn't really black in the sunlight, more a deep, oily shade of green. Colors coalesced across its skin, hints of purple and red and blue and yellow, all in not-quite-right shades that made my eyes hurt and my skin crawl.
I stepped sideways and bumped into Damon. His arm clamped around me.
"How did it know we were here?" I asked.
Cassandra's eyebrows drew together. "The demon may have others who are bound. They could be watching. Or it could be following your energy pattern. There are several ways it could track you."
"Great," I muttered, fighting not to huddle closer against Damon.
"Now do you see why I said you needed protection?" Cassandra said to Damon.
He didn't answer. I figured he didn't need to. To say no at this point would be pointless.
I had a sudden nasty thought. "What if someone else comes past?" I didn't want some innocent bystander becoming an imp snack because of me.
"Don't worry, when something sets off my wards, it automatically sets off some other protections. No one will come down the street right now."
One small piece of good news, at least.
We all studied the imp while it stared at us, baring a mouth full of rows of jagged teeth that made a great white look like a gummy bear. Damon's arm tightened around my shoulders. "Can you get rid of it?" I asked.
Before Cassandra could answer, the imp sprang forward again, hitting the glass with enough force to rattle the door. But it held, and the imp fell back with a pained yowl.
Cassandra grinned. "Slow learner, it seems."
&nb
sp; "Let's hope it's got a low pain threshold," I said. "Or gets smarter fast."
"We don't have to worry about that. I'm hardly going to leave it there. If we chase it off, it's still loose in the city. They'd have my hide."
"Who is 'they'?" I asked as the creature prowled a path along the storefront and back to the door, making a noise that made my teeth ache. A memory tickled at me. Cassandra had said something like this when we'd first met. I wanted to know who she was talking about.
"Never mind about that. Come back here behind me."
Damon and I moved. Fast. Cassandra nodded approval, then turned to face the door, raising one hand. Light flashed and the imp shrieked as it burst into bright white flame.
I winced away, shielding my eyes. Damon let me go. When I looked back at the doorway, there was nothing but smoking ash. Awe swept over me, like I'd just seen something I'd never known I'd been looking for. Quickly followed by a healthy dose of shock as the smoke wafted upward.
What the hell am I getting myself into?
I turned toward Damon. His face was still set but paler than it had been.
"You might notice that I managed not to set fire to myself in the process," Cassandra said, turning back to us. "Which is why you need training."
"I don't have to do—" I waved a shaky hand in the direction of the ash. I felt vaguely nauseous at the idea of ever having to burn something alive again. Even if the something was an imp.
"You don't have to use your powers to harm—or defend, rather. Of course you don't. But knowing how is important, if only to prevent accidental singeing."
I threaded my fingers around the pendant she'd given me. "What else?"
"Depends what you have a talent for." She studied me for a moment. "Obviously fire is not going to be a problem. But first, let's take care of Mr. Riley. Then you can watch while I cleanse that mess." She bustled around the store, picking up various candles, oils, and stones and piling them on the counter.
"Maggie will explain what to do with these." She opened the counter tray, pulled out a leather cord with a chunk of the same black tourmaline she'd given me hanging from it, and held it up toward Damon. "Bend down. I'm not an Amazon like her."
