CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE #2
Luke, who’s already eaten four meat pies, offers me the last one.
I wave it away and reach for one of Pepperpot’s cinnamon rolls. “You have it. I’m ready for dessert.” I halt with the pastry halfway to my mouth, transfixed as he devours his food.
He finishes the hand pie in three big bites, his fangs sinking through the pastry with an ease I find panty melting. It speaks of strength and appetite, of a dragon able to lift me overhead when we dance or fly through the air, cradling me in his arms.
Luke picks up his cinnamon roll and takes another of those all-consuming bites, his groan of pleasure lighting up my whole body. Then his eyes snap to me with a frown. “You’re not eating.”
“Just needed some coffee first,” I lie, snapping up my cup and downing half my cinnamon latte in one go. The cinnamon roll melts in my mouth, fluffy and light and with the perfect blend of yeasty bread and sweet spicy goodness.
Luke stalks from the room with our empty containers and returns carrying a damp washcloth, which he uses to wipe my hands. His touch is sure and competent, and every stroke of the damp fabric makes my skin tingle.
“There.” He lets go of me. “You can touch the book now.”
I blink up at him, slightly dazed as his words penetrate. “Right. The book.” I give my head a quick shake and pull Catherine’s journal back to me.
It takes a couple more hours to finish, Luke hovering at my side the entire time, taking constant notes. I take fewer as her entries begin to smear together into the same routine day after day… without her ever saying how she uses her magic.
“Fudging fudgsicles! There’s nothing here! I was so sure!” I turn the last page, frustration welling within me. “How can she write an entire journal on using book magic without saying a single thing about the rituals or words she used?”
“Maybe because she doesn’t use them,” he says. “The more I work with human witches, the more convinced I am that your magic is instinctual.”
I make an irritated noise in the back of my throat—one of his noises.
“Do not give up hope.” Luke’s hand covers mine, his claw sliding between the pages to flip back to an earlier entry. “Reread this passage and see if anything stands out to you.”
“What is it?” I ask. “What did you notice?”
“I refuse to influence your perceptions. It leads—”
“—to bad data. Yeah, yeah. Got it.”
His lips quirk a bit on the left, and he taps the page. “Read.”
It takes me two tries before I finally see what caught his eye. The scene did tarry overmuch, and I grew moste uneasy. I cried the end and returned to my sitting roome ryght as the maid did tap at the door to call me to the evening meal.
“‘I cried the end,’” I read aloud, turning the phrase over in my mind.
“Yes, that’s what I noted as well.”
I gape at him. “Can it really be that easy?”
“Instinctual magic, remember.” He taps at the words. “We won’t know unless you try.”
“But she did it from inside the book.”
“She did it while under the influence of an active spell.” He points toward where Dancing with Desire still hangs in the middle of the air. “And that’s an active spell.” At my hesitant look, he adds, “What can it hurt?”
“What can it hurt?” An incredulous laugh sputters from me. “Have you met me? That’s what happened the last time I ‘tried’ this kind of magic.” I jab a finger at the floating romance novel.
He wraps his hand around mine. “The magic of the library activated your magic without you realizing what was happening. Your spell lacked direction and purpose. This will be different. You now act with intention.”
“It could still go really, really wrong.”
“It won’t.” He squeezes my fingers. “You’re intelligent and thoughtful in your actions. I believe you can do this.”
My heart skips as his words light a million sparklers in my chest. It’s not love, but his respect for me and my abilities is the next best thing.
“Okay,” I say. “But can I have a piece of candy?”
He picks up the packet but holds it back. “Answer a question for me first. Why do you love them so?”
“Cinnamon’s always been my favorite flavor. The mellower grated spice is comfy and soothing, like in pastries. The hotter oil used in candies is invigorating. It helps me focus.”
When Luke hands me the candy, I pop a cinnamon heart into my mouth, rolling it around with my tongue to release more of the flavor quickly.
Dance of Desire waits only a few feet away, but my body feels stiff and awkward, like I don’t know how to walk. Once I’m directly under it, I reach up, halting an inch from the surface when I feel the magic coursing through it prickle against my skin.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter. It feels too simple to say only two words, even if they’re the words used at the end of so many books for hundreds of years. But I bet all of that repetition is what gives them their power.
I glance at Luke, who hovers close, ready to spring into action. He gives me a solemn nod.
I suck in a deep breath and say, “The end.”
A pulse of magic explodes outward, sizzling through me like electricity and making the wisteria sway. Dance of Desire falls into my hands, completely inert. A jolt of joy shoots through me as I breathe, “I did it.”
“It’s done.” Luke’s deep voice rings with relief. He’s free. Free of the spell. Free of needing to dance.
Free of me.
I no longer have a reason to live in his castle, to spend my days in his library. Even if he still wants me to help with sorting, it’s a temporary thing instead of what I want with him.
Because I want forever.
“You’ll go home now,” he growls.
It could be a question or a statement, but in that tone of voice, it’s totally a statement.
Cold washes over me with a shiver of shock.
Oh, god, I was right. He can’t wait to get rid of me.
Even though I knew this was coming and tried to prepare myself, it still hits like a blow, my squishy jelly heart constricting in a twist of pain. I can’t catch my breath.
“Yep,” I lie, my tone pushing for upbeat but croaking like I swallowed a frog.
He stares at me with resting grumpy face number one, his lashing tail the only hint that he’s not completely composed. Then he stalks out of the library, the door banging shut with a sharp snap.
I crumple as all of my joy disappears with him, like he slammed closed the book of my heart.