“Need some help?” He asks. I laugh and motion for him to come in.
“Probably, since I have no idea how to cook,” I tell him with a wry smile. “But hey, there’s a first time for everything. How hard can it be?” Samil straightens and crosses the space between us. He takes the bag of pasta from my hand and sets it on the counter. Reaching up, he pulls down a pot from the overhead rack, brushing against my arm as he does. The brief contact sends a rush of intense energy through me.
“Can you fill this with water?” He asks, offering me the pot. “I’m going to see what I can find to go with the pasta.” I watch him rummage around in the fridge for a minute, before turning to the sink.
“Umm, does it matter how much water?”
“About three quarters of the way,” he says. I fill it as instructed and then turn back towards him.
“Should I put it in the microwave?” I ask as closes the fridge.
“God no! You can’t put metal in the microwave. Don’t you know that Em?”
I blush and look away. “Umm, No? I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t know how to cook. The hospital delivered my meals, and the Cook prepared everything when I got home. Mom said she was going to hire someone here, but she hasn’t yet. I mostly eat out.” I shrug. “Delivery is my friend.”
“Well that explains all those take out boxes,” Samil says, shaking his head and moving over to the oven. He grabs the pot, puts it on the grill top and turns a knob, until a flame ring appears. After adjusting the pot over the flame, he moves to the pantry.
“So do you cook a lot?” I ask, watching as he looks around in the pantry, finally emerging with a second jar and a bunch of small spice bottles. He shrugs and puts everything on the counter and then gets another pot down from the rack.
“Everyone pitches in at home” he says running his fingers through his magenta hair, exposing the tattoos on shaved side of his head.
“Ahh. Who’s everyone?” I ask, remembering his comment from last night. “If you don’t mind my asking that is.” I watch as he pours the entire bag of pasta into the bubbling water, and then empties both jars of sauce into the second pot.
“My Mom, my two aunts and their husbands, plus my six cousins,” he replies absently, slowly stirring the sauce.
I blink, adding it up in my head. “Wow… That’s like… twelve people.”
“Yup.”
“That’s a lot of family…” He doesn’t reply and I bite my lip, debating if I should ask more. What the hell, the worst thing that can happen is he won’t answer. Drawing a breath, I ask. “What’s that like?”
He glances over at me appraisingly. Whatever he sees in my expression convinces him I’m truly interested.
“It’s mostly loud,” Samil shrugs, turning his attention back to stirring the sauce. He tests it, and then adds more spices. “Everyone lives in my grandparents’ old house. Since my cousins are really young, they are out of control and running around most of the time. When we first moved in, my Aunts would try to rope me into babysitting. Since that’s a fate worse than death, I convinced my Mom to teach me how to help out in the kitchen. That way my Aunts wouldn’t have to cook and they could watch their kids instead. When I’m home, I try to stay out of the way as much as possible.”
“You must not get much alone time,” I murmur, trying to imagine the logistics of all those people in my head. That sounds even worse than being stuck in the hospital.
He turns to look at me, a small smile curving his lips. “Not so much.” He laughs, switching to stirring the pasta. “I spend most of my nights at one of the guys’ houses. It’s better than sleeping on the couch at home.”
“Wow. I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard. You know, you’re welcome to stay here if you need a place to get away.” I say without thinking. “It’s not like we’re running short on unused rooms.”
He tilts his head, his hazel eyes appraise. “Do you have a colander?” He asks abruptly, moving the pasta pot of the grill.
“A what?” I blink in confusion.
“Never mind, I’ll look for myself,” Samil grins, shaking his head. “You really don’t know anything about cooking, do you?” He can’t see my shrug as he rummages through the cabinets. “Ha!” He says triumphantly, dragging out a large bowl covered in tiny holes.
Umm ok… That’s a colander? Why would he want a clearly defective bowl? The sauce is going to go right out the holes. How is that useful? But I keep my thoughts to myself. Clearly cooking is far more complicated than I thought.
“Anyways, thanks for the offer,” Samil says, putting the colander in the sink and grabbing the pasta. “But I’m sure your mom wouldn’t appreciate it if you had a stranger suddenly move in.”
I scoff. “You don’t know my Mom. I could move a whole army of people in and she wouldn’t even notice.” Frowning, I pause to watch him pour the pasta in the sink. I guess there was something wrong with it. Moving closer, I see he poured it in the colander, not down the drain. Huh. Ok, that’s odd. I decide not to bring more attention to my lack of kitchen skills and resume where I’d left off.
“Since we’ve moved here, Mom’s pretty much checked out,” I continue. “She’s hardly even here. She gets home and goes straight to bed by 9pm every night, and is gone to meet with her lady friends or whatever, before I even get up in the morning.” His shoulders tense and he doesn’t look at me as he transfers the pasta back into its original pot.
“You don’t have to decide anything right away,” I say slowly, unable to pinpoint the reason for the uncomfortable emotions radiating from him. Oh shit. It hadn’t occurred to me that my offer might sound too much like charity for his pride. Ugh, I didn’t mean it that way.
I rush on, trying to fix the damage. “I’m just being selfish really. It’s been really nice having company here this week. This place is kinda creepy at night.” I say, trying to make it sound casual, like he’d be doing me a favor rather than the other way around. “The offer’s always open, just another option for you if you need your own space and the guys are busy.” I look away, the heat rising in my cheeks. It must have worked though, because the tension starts to dissipate and I breathe a sigh of relief.
A hand brushes back a stray lock of hair, tucking it behind my ear. I turn to see Samil right in front of me. His tattooed hand trails down my jaw to lift my chin to meet his eyes.
“Thank you Em, I’ll think about it.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, his calm energy enveloping me. He pulls back and gives me a small smile. “Now come on, we need to finish up.”
“Sure,” I manage, clearing my throat. “What can I do to help?”
“How bout set the table and let the guys know that lunch is ready.” Samil says, waving me off. I grab plates and silverware, taking them out to the unused dining room. Now that he mentions it, the house had been quiet while we were cooking in the kitchen. That didn’t bode well. What kinds of trouble were the guys getting into? After checking out a couple rooms, I finally find them huddled around a laptop in an abandoned office.
“Hey guys, are you done setting up the security system?” I ask, leaning in the doorway. “If you’re ready for a break, Samil made lunch.”
“Yes!” Sebastian grins. “I’m starving.”
“Lunch sounds good,” Ian says, closing the laptop. Clayton nods agreement, and I head back to the dining room with them on my heels.
“Wow, we get to sit at the grownup table and everything,” Jared snarks as he enters and I roll my eyes. Swear to god, if my eyes get stuck that way, it will totally be his fault.
“Well if you don’t think you’re mature enough to handle it, Jared, we don’t have to eat in here,” I reply with mock seriousness. “This room just never gets used, but it’s not a problem to move…” I trail off.
“This is great, Trouble,” Clayton reassures, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Yes, thanks you Emmy.” Ian says softly.
“Let me grab some glasses and drinks.” I duck away
from Clayton and slip back into the kitchen.
“Let us help,” Sebastian says, following me. Samil’s already transferred the pasta and sauce into separate serving bowls and is washing the pots. Sebastian takes the food and disappears, Samil following behind with a couple of two liters. Hey, I guess there was something usable in the fridge after all. I open the cabinet to get glasses. Jared pops up next to me, scaring the crap out of me. He presses against me as he reaches past to grab a couple glasses and sets them on the counter.
“Sorry if I was a jerk earlier, I don’t mean to piss you off.” He whispers, leaning in closer. His warm breath against my neck combines with his cold energy, causing a shiver to roll down my spine. “Do you forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive,” I manage, my heart racing.
“Awesome! Now hurry up, we’re hungry!” He grins, hobbling back to the dining room with the glasses. OMG! Damn him and his crazy mood swings. Shaking my head, I grab three more glasses and join them around the table.
Once everyone’s filled their plate and dug in, I finally bring up the subject that’s been on my mind all week.
“So, any news on the jackholes from the gas station?” I ask, pushing my plate aside.
“Nothing yet,” Jared answers. “The car was a corporate rental done through a shell company. Ian’s still following the paper trail. As soon as we have more though, we’ll let you know.”
“Damn. Please tell me you have some good news for me? Where are you at with project Anti-Zombify Emily?” I ask, looking at each of them.
“We were going to talk to you about that later…” Ian clears his throat and stares down at his plate. “We haven’t found a way to reverse the process. But we’ve come up with a plan to redirect it. By starting where they left off, we found a protection enchantment that, combined with the new spell we wrote, should act as a seal. If it works as planned, it will stop the Magi from being able to access the magical energy. Unfortunately, since they already completed the imbuing portion, there isn’t a way to release the power they stole. Even after we finish, it will still be there, but inaccessible.”
Say what? I frown in confusion, and glance at the others for help.
“Basically, we will complete the original ritual by giving it a new ending. Once it is complete, even if someone tried, they won’t be able to finish the spell. It will also stop them from doing the same ritual again.” Samil volunteers between bites.
With an audible sigh of relief, the tension leaves my body. I relax back in my chair and smile.
“So what do I need to do? And how soon can we do it?” I ask, bouncing my gaze between them. They look at each other.
“As soon as you you’re ready,” Ian says cautiously. “A lot of this is currently theoretical, Emmy. We can’t be one hundred percent sure it’s safe. We can keep looking for something else.”
“No, I don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve already had one close call. We need to get this taken care of ASAP.” I tell him firmly. “I don’t want to be the ‘too dumb to live’ bimbo in the horror movies, that runs straight into the arms of the killer.” The tension breaks and they chuckle at my poor attempt at humor. “As far as I’m concerned, this is step one in taking back my life.”
“That’s my girl.” Sebastian grins back at me, reaching over to squeeze my hand.
“So… Eat faster! I’m ready to get this done,” I clap my hands excitedly. The guys laugh and dig back in. In less time than I expected, they’ve finished eating and loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher. I slip into my new jacket while Clayton, Ian and Jared gather up their tools and load them up in the security truck. The twins leave first, heading to the cottage while Clayton meets us back in the kitchen.
“Come on then, Trouble. Let’s get to it,” Clayton says with a wide grin.
Sebastian, Samil, Clayton and I go out the back door and use the shortcut to Sebastian’s. Slipping into the garage, we climb into the SUV and head out.
Since we haven’t learned anything about the would be kidnapers yet, I curl up in the back seat and my head ends up in Samil’s lap. Clayton and Sebastian are upfront, chatting about their plans for next week. Obviously trying to keep the conversation light till we get to the cottage. Samil hasn’t said a word. After a few minutes, I feel his fingers running through my hair. I turn my head just enough to see his face.
He’s staring out the window, obviously in his own world. I close my eyes and enjoy the comforting touch of his energy. It feels nice to have his strong fingers in my hair and I want to enjoy the moment. A soft sigh escapes me and his fingers still. I look up at him through my lashes. He’s watching me, that puzzled expression back. I give him a shy smile.
“You don’t have to stop,” I say quietly, not wanting to attract the other guy’s attention. “It’s very soothing.” I let my drift eyes close again and don’t try to analyze the flash of emotion I’d seen in his eyes. After a moment his fingers begin moving again. More deliberate now, alternating between long strokes and a firm massage. A buzz of energy radiates through me, one that I haven’t been able to figure out yet. It’s not the guys; I know what their energy feels like. I can only guess that it’s the magic in me responding to Samil. I can’t wait to get this ritual done. I know they said it would seal the magic inside me, but I really want to know what that will be like. Will I have magic I can use, like they do?
Now that the door has been opened to this new world, I really want to learn more. Books can only teach you so much. I want to try performing actual magic.
“We’ll be pulling around back in a minute,” Sebastian says, interrupting my thoughts. “Try to stay down, Sprite. Once we get parked and make sure it’s good, we’ll give you the all clear.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Just being safe,” Clayton reassures. “We haven’t seen anything suspicious.”
Samil’s movements slow as we turn into the drive. I look up at him again as he tucks some wayward strands behind my ear, and I shiver involuntarily. The SUV pulls to a stop and Sebastian shuts off the engine. Shifting in the seat, I move away from Samil, careful to stay out of sight.
“Give me a minute to get an update from the twins.” Samil says, pulling out his phone. After what feels like hours, he looks back up, pocketing it. “Ok, we’re clear.”
The guys are out of the SUV in a flash, and I try not to laugh as I follow behind. Sometimes they remind me of small children. Sure it felt like forever, but really?
“How you holding up?” Sebastian drops back and wraps his arm around my shoulder
“I’m not dead yet,” I grin. “Every day is a good one.” He laughs, squeezing my shoulder. Thank God someone gets my sense of humor.
Inside the cottage, the rest of the guys are waiting in the living room, quietly talking amongst themselves.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this Emmy?” Ian asks again. “We understand if you needed more time, if you want us to explain everything first, or if you’re just not comfortable with this. Most people wouldn’t be…” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I know he means well, but I just want this done. If his earlier attempt at explaining taught me anything, it’s that his magical explanations go right over my head. Stripping off my jacket and dropping it on the couch, I level him with a look.
“Yes, I am definitely ready. I don’t need any more time,” Ian opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand to stop him. “Seriously, I trust you. If you think that this will work, then it will work. I have one hundred percent confidence in you guys.” I rush on, wanting to get the rest out before I lose my courage. “You have gone out of your way to welcome me back. You’ve been my friends, even though I can’t remember any of our past.” My heart rate picks up and I blink back tears. “You’ve done everything you can to help me and haven’t given me a single reason not to trust you.”
“Plus, I read enough paranormal and urban fantasy to have learned that living in denial and running away from shit is a pointless waste of ti
me. It just causes more trouble.” I finish with a sarcastic grin. Five sets of eyes stare at me, emotions thick in the air. None of them says a word. Shit. I think I broke them.
“So… Can we do this now?” I ask, clapping my hands together. Finally Samil clears his throat, and like a spell has been broken, they’re heading towards the door leading to the second floor. I pause in the hall, as something occurs to me. “Wait a minute. We don’t have to wear robes or anything weird, do we?” The guys burst out laughing and I give them a dirty look. “Hey they do all sorts of stuff in books. I’m just checking.”
“Nothing weird, Emmy,” Ian reassures me.
“Thank God,” I mumble, trying to banish the image of the five of them getting naked and putting on robes. Or doing the spell wearing nothing at all. Nope, nope, nope. I am not thinking about my friends naked.
“Exactly what kind of books have you been reading, Sprite?” Sebastian teases causing a blush to flood my cheeks.
“Uhhh… You know, urban fantasy, paranormal fantasy, that kind of thing.” I mumble looking away.
“Come on, guys. Let’s get this done,” Samil says, opening the door to the stairs.
“Nothing to worry about, Trouble. You’ll see.” Clayton assures, patting my shoulder.
I follow him up the stairs and into their… library? Magic room? Whatever. The room where they showed me magic for the first time. Sebastian is rolling up the rug, revealing a large white circle painted on the floor. Samil grabs a stool from the corner and places it next to the table. While Ian places white candles at four points on the circle, making sure they are an equal distance apart. With a wink, Sebastian whispers something under his breath, and the candles flare to life.
“Sit here Emily,” Samil gestures to the stool and I sit down as instructed. “You just need to sit quietly for the ritual. We’ll do all the work,” Samil explains, moving behind me. The others take up position just inside the circle, standing in the center points between the candles. Everyone is unusually serious, and I fidget restlessly.
Spark of Knowledge Page 12
