Chapter 22 #2
“And I’ll bet once you master harnessing, you’ll be able to swim, just like you were doing in your meditation.”
“I was like a fish,” I say, recalling the joy I felt in that river. “Completely at home in the water. I don’t even remember worrying about breathing.”
Leo goes still, for such a short beat I almost miss it. Then he asks, “Have you ever swum in a river before?”
“No. That’s the weird thing about it. Only in pools. And the ocean, sort of. That’s it.”
He nods, thinking.
“So, what does all this mean?” I ask, my anxiety building. I don’t like that sharp V between his brows. “Does it have anything to do with what Jean said? Or what happened with the snowdrops?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I think it proves your clairsentience has a purpose. Emotions are your power source.”
“Power source for what?” Other than seeing through glamours or hedge riding. “And don’t say ‘I don’t know.’” Not again.
He swallows the words that were on the tip of his tongue and says instead, “I think if you keep practicing harnessing, you’ll figure it out.”
I growl out a sigh. “So you don’t know.”
“Not yet,” is his diplomatic reply. “But we could—” He surveys the room like an answer is hiding somewhere in the dusty corners.
I’m nervous, and pathetically, a little tipsy. “But we could what?”
“We could try again—you know, you helping me with a plant.”
“An experiment,” I deadpan.
“In a way.” He heads for the door. “If you’re willing.”
I’m more ambivalent than willing. Every time Leo conducts an experiment, I wind up shaken by the results.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he assures me, returning to my side. “I understand.”
His eyes alone tell me he means it, but I can feel how intrigued he is. And how concerned. He wants answers as much as I do, and he’s the one person, other than Jean, who’s capable of interpreting them.
“No, I’ll do it,” I say. “It’s a good idea.”
“Okay. Hold tight.” He disappears from the room and returns seconds later, carrying a viny, flowering plant in both hands.
“Come here,” he urges me as he places the pot in the center of the floor.
I kneel beside him, studying the plant. Small, white flowers trail along thin, drooping stems. Like all of Leo’s babies, it’s healthy and lush. And it smells like an expensive perfume.
“What is it?” I ask, inhaling its sweetness.
“Jasmine.”
Wow. The famous jasmine. “It smells so good. Like…” I search for the words.
“Just sit with it for a minute,” Leo suggests. “Then tell me what it feels like.”
I lay a few delicate stems across my palm and close my eyes, allowing the flowers’ energy to seep into me. “It’s warm nights and moonlight,” I say. “Like floating in a dream.” I turn to find Leo perched on the bed, watching. “That’s its spirit I’m feeling, right?”
“Yes,” he answers with a soft smile.
“It’s feminine,” I guess. “A goddess.” A maiden dancing under the moon.
“Very much so.” Leo slides down onto the floor. “And you’re right, by the way. Jasmine is associated with the moon and the subconscious.”
“Seriously?” I’m shocked by my accuracy.
He’s not. “Yes, seriously,” he says as he shifts to sit behind me. “That’s why I chose it. It can enhance psychic abilities.”
I give him a sharp look over my shoulder. “Is that a good idea?” It seems to me, enhancing my ability would be a lot like sending someone with pneumonia out into a blizzard.
“It’ll be okay. I’m right here.” His hands grip my hips and gently tug until my back hits his chest and his legs are stretched out on either side of mine. Like yesterday at the river, I’m caged in by his body. Sheltered.
Despite my anxiety, I melt into him.
I won’t let anything happen to you.
“Jasmine’s element is water,” he gently warns. “So this could be pretty intense. But I think it’s the best way to get results.” When I stiffen, he reiterates, “I’m right here.”
I tip my head back to see his face. “You could calm me.”
He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “If I do, it might dull your power.”
So I have to get a filling without novocaine?
No, I can do this. I need to. Answers, results, knowledge—without them, I’m a live wire. With them, I’m powerful. “Okay.” I squeeze his hand. “Let’s do it.”
He squeezes back. “That’s my rebel violet.”
First step: harness his emotions. I angle myself so I can reach his chest and tuck my head into the crook of his neck.
“Drain me,” he orders, pressing my hand over his heart. “As much as you can.”
I suck in a breath and nod. Eyes closed, I drape myself in my damp velvet cloak and open the front to usher in his emotions.
The first wave hits me like a hot gust of wind. The fastest, hastiest, most impulsive feelings: fear, rage, jealousy. Then comes the deep ache of longing. It sinks into me faster than I can stop it, weighing on my chest. Pull them in. Pull them in. Hold them under your ribs.
Leo’s arm tightens around me, keeping me steady.
Finally, come the milder emotions—soft whispers of affection, excitement, and pride. I take them each as they come, inhaling them gently, and feeling them flutter to a landing under my ribs.
With a stretch and a deep breath, I alert Leo that I’ve finished.
He takes hold of my face and studies my eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Full.” I huff an awkward laugh. “But I’m okay.” The sooner we get this stuff out of me, the better. “How do you feel?”
His smile is soft. “Like I could use a good nap.”
I sweep his hair back from his unglamoured, gold-flecked eyes. I’m starting to prefer him this way; he’s wholly himself in his faerie form.
He captures my shaky hand and presses a kiss to the backs of my fingers. “Are you ready?”
At my nod, he sets my back to his chest again and positions the potted jasmine directly in front of us.
“I’m going to start without you. I’ll try opening some of these blossoms.” When he stretches out his hand, the jasmine trembles, so minutely I might have imagined it.
Slowly, painstakingly, the white, trumpet-shaped buds unfold into five-pointed stars.
He mumbles in my ear, “Now, help me.”
He sounds half-asleep.
I fit my hand into his upturned one and hold it tightly as he flips them both and stretches his fingers toward the flowers.
Our chests both hitch as our energies connect, and right away, the jasmine’s leaves perk up, like little bunny ears catching a sound.
Leo turns his wrist, and a vine curls into a spiral, but its movement is… geriatric.
His voice slurs with fatigue, “Give me some energy, Betts.”
I almost ask how before I realize I already know. I reach deep into my solar plexus, scoop out the energy, and throw it straight out of my hand.
We both gasp. Sunshine-like warmth builds in my fingers and palms, and an incredible sense of harmony settles over me. The fragrance of jasmine, so sensual and relaxing, has my eyelids fluttering and my heavy head dropping onto Leo’s shoulder.
“Betts, look.”
It’s a struggle to open my eyes, but when I do, I’m left breathless with wonder. The jasmine vines reach for us like dozens of skinny arms, their flowered sleeves filling the room with their perfume.
“Am I helping you do that?” A minute ago he was so drained he could barely open a few buds.
“Yes,” he breathes.
I’m a little frightened, and I’m pretty sure he is too. But I continue feeding him energy. One delicate vine winds around our hands and curls halfway up our forearms. I let out a shaky giggle. “It tickles.”
He chuckles softly but doesn’t respond. Leaning closer, cheek pressed to my head, he turns our joined hands this way and that, the vine hanging loosely like a bracelet as it slides along our skin. The most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen.
Leo’s heart pounds hard and fast against my back. “This can’t be real.”
How is any of this real? I’m sitting on the floor in the arms of a faerie, harnessing emotions and charming a plant.
“You’re amplifying my magic,” he says, voice laced with awe. “I don’t know how, but you are.”
“Because I’ve replenished your energy?”
“No, it’s more than that.” He extends his fingers to unwind the vine. “It feels different.”
“Different how?”
He shakes his head, his scruffy chin snagging my hair. “I don’t know.”
When we let go of one another’s hands, he brings his close and rubs it with his thumb. I take it in mine again and brush my fingers across his palm. It looks and feels the same to me—warm, strong, capable.
“Anyone could do that, right?” I let my head fall back against his shoulder. “I mean, Avery could, couldn’t she? Just pull up some earth energy, say, and feed it to you?”
I feel his hard swallow against the side of my neck. “She might be able to make me feel a little less tired, but she wouldn’t be able to boost my magic. You’re not just refilling my energy, Betts, you’re part of the connection between me and the plant.”
My fingers dig into his thigh. “Like a battery?”
He stares, unseeing, at the jasmine. “Yes, but more.” He snaps out of his daze and runs a hand down the length of my hair. “This is a good thing. It’s amazing, actually.” With the push of his thumb against my jaw, he tilts my head back until my eyes meet his. “You’re amazing.”
All thoughts of blossoms and harnessing and energies fly from my mind. There’s nothing but Leo. His hand on my face, his strong arms and perfect mouth. Admiration and desire bleed from him and melt into me.
I reach for the soft curls behind his ear—his pointed, faerie ear—and slide them between my fingers. I swear something has drugged me. The jasmine? Leo’s emotions? I grip him behind his neck.
“A chroí,” he whispers, mouth hovering over mine. “I don’t know what you want.”
I claim his lips.
He’s what I want. The past, Rime, and Nàdar be damned.