Magical Memories

by Donna Fletcher

  Sydney reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Even when Marcus proved himself unworthy, you remained unselfish. You gave him another chance at life and at love and you did it by sacrificing a part of yourself. Not a small part but a very large part. I don’t think anyone truly understands what you did.”

  Tempest was grateful for Sydney’s comforting touch and she clung to her. “The hurt was unbearable that day I faced him. I knew I had no choice. I knew what must be done, what I had to do. I told myself that I had to separate myself from it. That the Ancient One must handle it and that the woman inside me who loved him had to step aside.” She shook her head, her tears falling.

  “But that wasn’t what was necessary, was it?”

  “No, I realized as I fought with him that I could never separate the two. The two made me whole, made me who I was and who I would always be.”

  “And you used that wisdom to save Marcus, didn’t you?”

  She nodded slowly. “I realized if I could instill that wisdom within him that he might have a second chance.”

  “And you gave it to him at a high price to yourself. Unselfish love, what a beautiful gift.”

  “A costly gift, but one well-worth giving.”

  “I admire you,” Sydney said, a tear falling from her eye.”And understand why you are the Ancient One and the price you pay for it.”

  Tempest smiled. “It isn’t a burden to me. It is simply who I am. Right now it is the woman within me that hurts, and if I keep her separate from the whole of me I will never fully comprehend the wisdom of this situation.”

  “And must you always? Can’t you just allow yourself time to be a woman?”

  “I am always a woman, but I am also always wisdom. One isn’t really whole without the other.”

  “Which is how Michael is feeling right now?”

  She nodded. “Yes, he must merge both sides of himself, and in so doing finally understand who he is and what he feels.”

  “And you wait on this?”

  “Yes, I can do nothing until he is ready.” She forced a smile. “That’s not true. I can do much; I can love him with my heart and soul.”

  “Unselfish love—so very difficult and yet I wish myself capable of it.”

  “But you already possess it, Sydney, and it is why you lost the man you loved.”

  Sydney disagreed. “I lost him for lack of courage.”

  “It took courage for you to walk away.”

  “But if my beliefs were strong, I would have—”

  Tempest stopped her. “No, your beliefs were strong and you did what was necessary for him and for yourself.”

  “I can’t help but wonder, though, that if—”

  “If is a small word that people give too much credence to and in doing so give it tremendous power. If is only as big as you make it and the passing years have a way of making small ifs gigantic. Deal with the real issue, not what you made of it.”

  “You mean as you’re doing with Michael,” Sydney said with concern. “You’re dealing with the issue of love.”

  “Yes,” Tempest admitted. “Most would think that the issue is Marcus and his warlock ways. But his true test is discovering his origin of power.”

  “And you don’t think he understands this.”

  “I can’t be certain what he understands right now. He is still attempting to understand who he is.”

  “There is time, isn’t there?” Sydney asked anxiously.

  “It grows shorter as he grows stronger.”

  “Does he know this?”

  “Instinctively he does, though he doesn’t admit it. It will not be easy for either of us, though it is necessary.”

  “And you will face it with your usual strength,” Sydney said.

  “There is no other way for me.”

  “I never fully realized the scope of your power and the sacrifices you make. You must be lonely at times.”

  “Loneliness can be a good friend. It is how you embrace that loneliness that makes the difference,” Tempest said, teaching as only a good teacher could.

  “Then you embraced your loneliness all these years?”

  “I embraced it with open arms and I learned from it,” Tempest explained. “I learned to cherish the silence and hear the secrets it holds.”

  “The silence has secrets.”

  Tempest laughed softly. “More secrets than you know.”

  “I have often wondered,” Sydney said curiously. “You teach, but who has taught you? Where does your knowledge come from?”

  Tempest was fast to explain. “From all that surrounds me. There are answers in the sky, the earth, life itself. They all teach, if one would listen and see.”

  Sydney smiled knowingly. “You have taught me this before and I listened.”

  “You were one of my best students. I am proud of you.”

  “I’m grateful for all you taught me, but mostly I’m grateful for your friendship.”

  “I have few good friends, Sydney, and you’re one of them.”

  Sydney beamed with pride. “I am honored. But tell me what I can do now to help you.”

  “You have done more than you know,” she answered. “You gave me a shoulder to lean on and a friendly ear that listened without judging. You are a true friend.”

  Sydney struggled to keep her tears at bay. “I am here for you always.”

  “As I will be for you.”

  “Tempest!”

  The two women smiled upon hearing Michael call out eagerly for Tempest.

  “I should go,” Sydney said.

  A hand to her arm stopped Sydney from rising. “Stay, visit with us.”

  “Michael doesn’t sound as if he’d like company.”

  “Tea,” Tempest said. “Stay at least for tea. He can be patient for teatime.”

  Michael rushed into the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of Sydney. “Oh, company.”

  “Hello, Michael,” Sydney said.

  Michael returned the greeting, though disappointment accented his voice. “Hi, Sydney.”

  “I’m here for tea,” she explained and reached for the pot to pour herself a cup.

  Michael turned cordial after hearing she didn’t plan on staying long. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please do,” Sydney said.

  They spent the next hour in a friendly conversation and Michael found himself enjoying the company. They laughed, talked and reminisced about other times and places and it helped Michael to better understand his heritage.

  Witches were truly unique people.

  No sooner than Sydney bid them good-bye and Michael joined Tempest by the sink, his arms going around her waist, than Dagon and Sebastian dropped right into the kitchen.

  “Damn,” Michael muttered and received a poke to the ribs from Tempest.

  “We thought we’d see how things were going,” Sebastian said.

  Dagon walked directly to Tempest and gave her a peck on the cheek even though he had to step around Michael to do so.

  Tempest felt the tension crackle in the air.

  Men.

  They were all the same. Protective and territorial.

  “Things are going fine,” Michael informed them both and tightened his hold on Tempest’s waist “A drink?” she asked and all three men nodded.

  She left Michael’s side, though not before he gave her a quick kiss and she went to the pantry to get the good scotch.

  If anything would soothe their manly feathers it was good scotch.

  She placed the full bottle and glasses on the table and then decided there was something urgent she had to see to upstairs and left the three men at the kitchen table, to fight or to talk.

  It was up to them, and she had no intention of interfering. She was certain they would use no magic. They were too aware that they were no match for each other, and they were aware that she was more powerful than any of them and would settle any dispute her way.

  She grabbed a mystery book she had been rea
ding off the table in the living room before going upstairs to relax on the bed and read, leaving the men to mend fences.

  Michael poured the scotch the mortal way. He still hadn’t gotten used to pointing his finger and having magic do his work. He preferred to do his own work.

  Dagon raised his glass. “To friends.”

  Sebastian joined in and looked to Michael.

  Michael didn’t hesitate. Dagon was offering a truce and he took it. He raised his glass. “To good friends.”

  Glasses clinked and smiles surfaced; the tension had been broken.

  Sebastian spoke first. “So how’s magic treating you?”

  Michael liked Sebastian; maybe it was because he was mortal and he could relate to him, or maybe it was because he could sense he was a regular guy, unpretentious and honest. Dagon was a different matter.

  “As well as I can figure it out.”

  “It isn’t that difficult. It’s actually simple,” Dagon said with his usual air of arrogance.

  “You were born a witch,” Sebastian reminded.

  “So was Michael.”

  The air suddenly crackled with tension again.

  “True,” Sebastian said, “though he didn’t know he was a witch.”

  “Warlock,” Michael corrected and the two looked at him.”I’m just beginning to realize what that means.”

  The air quieted again.

  “Anything I can help you with?” Dagon offered with much less arrogance and more empathy.

  “Did you know Marcus?”

  Dagon shook his head. “No, it was before my time.”

  Michael took a generous gulp of scotch. “It would help me to know more about him.”

  “I’d like to hear more about warlocks,” Sebastian said, taking a drink that emptied his glass.

  “I know tales and legends and those today who think themselves warlocks but have no idea what it means to truly be one,” Dagon said.

  “Tell me what you know,” Michael said. “Any information might benefit me.”

  “Evil lot,” Sebastian said. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  Michael stiffened at his remark.

  “No harm meant,” Sebastian said and refilled his glass.

  Michael relaxed. “None taken, especially since I can’t comprehend this whole warlock thing.”

  “The easiest way to explain it,” Dagon said, “is that a warlock is basically an evil witch, someone who practices the Craft from the dark side.”

  “Now are we talking demons and such?” Sebastian asked.

  Dagon shook his head. “No, evil is more simple than people think. Greed, hate, jealousy—those things constitute evil. And when promoted to their full potential their power is substantial. A warlock feeds and grows off that power.”

  “Does a warlock love?” Michael asked.

  Dagon looked at him oddly, as if he himself found the question puzzling. “I would have to say that a warlock thinks more of lust than of love.”

  “What if a warlock found love?” Michael asked, with a relentless need to have answers to his disturbing questions.

  “Wouldn’t the question be can a warlock actually love?” Sebastian asked.

  Dagon rubbed his chin, giving both questions thought. “ ‘Love’ and ‘warlock’ are two words that are definitely not synonymous. I can’t see the two being compatible.”

  Sebastian offered his own opinion. “Since you love Tempest, Michael, then it must mean that you’ve freed yourself of your warlock traits.”

  Dagon’s opinion differed. “Or he hasn’t fully embraced that part of his past.”

  “Marcus’s power entices,” Michael said. “It’s like a siren’s song that’s impossible to ignore.”

  “Be careful,” Dagon warned. “The dark side is easy to fall prey to.”

  “But if love exists, can’t it rescue?” Sebastian asked.

  Michael looked to Dagon and waited for his answer.

  “I’d like to believe that love could rescue the darkest heart, but I can’t say for certain. The stories I’ve heard of Marcus paint him to be ruthless and uncaring, and yet Sarina has told me things that make me believe that perhaps Marcus did have the capacity to love.”

  “What has she told you?” Michael asked anxiously.

  “She remembers Marcus treating her sister with respect, a strange concept for a warlock.”

  “Perhaps he respected her power,” Sebastian said.

  “Or feared it,” Dagon offered.

  “Or underestimated it,” Michael added, his expression reflective.

  “Maybe he never fully understood what she offered him. Maybe he was too busy thinking of his own selfish needs.”

  “That’s insightful,” Sebastian said.

  Michael smiled. “I’m trying, though I can’t say it’s easy.”

  “Where love is concerned, nothing is ever easy,” Dagon said with a shake of his head. “Add to that being a warlock and you don’t have a difficult situation, but an impossible one.”

  “Tempest taught me that there are always possibilities,” Michael said. “And I’d like to think that I have numerous possibilities that will lead me to making a wise choice.”

  “Ever the teacher,” Dagon said with sadness to his voice that startled the other two.

  “You sound as though you feel sorry for her,” Sebastian said.

  Dagon looked at Sebastian with surprise. “Of course I do. Think of how it must be for her, everyone always seeking her skills, her knowledge, and her power. It is seldom that someone doesn’t want something from her. She is forever in demand, and does she turn anyone down when they request her help?”

  Sebastian shook his head along with Dagon. “She gives it.”

  “Damn right,” Michael agreed. “She always takes time for people. Even now she thinks more of helping me than of her own feelings.”

  “Hell, this must be tearing her apart,” Sebastian said. “Helping you, loving you and yet knowing there’s always the possibility that she may have to let you go.” He shook his head.

  “I don’t know where she gets the strength.”

  “Sarina told me that she never remembers her sister not having strength,” Dagon said. “She often speaks of her sister’s endless acts of compassion and her ability to deal with them as though they were everyday chores that simply needed tending.”

  “Tempest is a rare woman,” Sebastian said.

  “Witch,” Dagon corrected.

  “Woman,” Michael insisted. “Tempest is very much a woman and needs to be a woman. Too many think of her only as the Ancient One. She has a right to live her life and I intend to see that she does just that.”

  Sebastian slapped Michael on the back. “You certainly don’t sound like a warlock. You sound like a man in love.”

  Dagon agreed with a nod. “That you do.”

  “I have to tell you both,” Michael said, sounding like he was about to confess a secret. “I really think that Marcus loved Tempest. I know he was a warlock and lust was in his blood, but I sense there was love in his heart for her. Does that sound strange?”

  Dagon shook his head. “I would never have thought it.”

  “But there are possibilities,” Sebastian said. “Which means anything is possible, even a warlock in love.”

  Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part.”

  “Maybe it’s a memory so strong that it haunts you,” Dagon suggested.

  Michael looked at him with hope. “You think that’s possible?”

  “There are those possibilities again,” Sebastian said with a laugh.

  “And where there are possibilities, there is also hope,” Dagon said.

  “I tell myself that,” Michael said though sounded doubtful. “But there are times I feel confused and unable to think straight.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Why wouldn’t you feel that way? You find out that you’re not only a witch with special powers, but a warlo
ck with immense powers at his disposal. How would any man react to that news?”

  “He’s not any man,” Dagon said seriously. “And you must remember that, Michael.”

  Michael nodded. “I can’t forget it. I feel it, see it, and know it in everything I do.”

  “Have you practiced your magic?” Dagon asked.

  Michael shook his head. “Not really.”

  Dagon understood. “You fear it.”

  “Yes, I do,” Michael admitted without hesitation.

  Dagon placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Embrace it, or you will never fully understand yourself.”

  “I sometimes wonder if I do want to understand who I am.”

  “Fear the consequences?” Sebastian asked.

  Michael nodded.

  Dagon voiced what Michael couldn’t. “You fear losing Tempest.”

  Michael released a heavy sigh and rubbed at the back of his aching neck. “I love her so damn much. I want to be with her all the time. I want to touch her, hold her, kiss her until I drink my fill of her and yet it’s never enough. Never. I always want more. Always more. It’s a never-ending need that I don’t want to end. I want it to go on forever and ever and ever.”

  “Then make certain that it does,” Dagon advised.

  “But I’m not sure how to do that. I’m not sure what’s expected of me or if there’s something expected only of Marcus. I’m not sure and I don’t want to make a mistake. I made one already, and look where it got me.”

  “It got you love,” Sebastian said, “an unselfish love that never ends.”

  “He’s right,” Dagon said. “Look to that love—maybe that’s where you’ll find your answers.”

  “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then you lose,” Dagon said. “You lose yourself and you lose Tempest.”

  “Not again!” Michael said adamantly. “Never again.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Michael woke with a start to discover the spot beside him in bed was empty, and he grew irritated. He found himself wanting Tempest beside him more and more. It was as though she had become a need to him, an endless need that could never be satisfied. And to feel that dependent on someone surprised him. He had lived a good portion of his life alone, never really needing anyone. But now that he’d found Tempest he couldn’t comprehend living life without her.