Chapter 3 #2
She glanced down at her arms to see the vines had fully retreated to their usual form of tattoos.
“That was when the vines first showed up. They carried me out of the wreck. I’d had magic in me since I was born, and I could use it on purpose since I was six, but the night of the accident was when my real power emerged, the night that I made my first acquaintance with death. ”
Malcolm nodded. “Trauma is a common trigger for that kind of awakening,” he said. “Especially death.”
Death was such a strange thing for those who lived with magic.
It came often in the night, like an old friend, to come for someone who was ready to move on.
But at other times, it was no friend at all, it was a nemesis, tearing loved ones away with the relentless violence of a hurricane, leaving behind only pain and misery.
Humans could sense death, like all creatures could, but witches? Ahh, witches saw death the most clearly, because life and death were miracles of nature’s most ancient magic, and one did not exist without the other.
Malcolm stroked a fingertip over her tattooed skin, and that simple, innocent touch went clear through to her soul. Their eyes met, and his lips parted to say something, but then he shook his head, as if he had just talked himself out of it.
“I’m sorry you went through that. I can’t even begin to imagine,” he finally said.
The last tendrils of that nightmare still clung to her.
“I was out in the rain. It was so cold.” She shivered as she remembered standing there in the darkness, hoping that time would rewind itself.
She’d felt magic all around her, spinning faster and faster until everything was out of control.
Her skin had felt like ice as she’d turned numb standing there, waiting to be rescued, waiting to wake up, waiting for anything to make that night be over.
“My grandmother lived in town. I moved in with her, and she raised me.” She touched the pendant. “She gave me this that night. I wear it whenever I feel out of control.” Calli held the pendant up for him to see and he reached out to touch the moonstone with gentle fingers. “But now she’s gone too.”
Malcolm’s green eyes were bright and intense. “I’m sorry you lost her.”
They shared a quiet moment where the silence had no need to be broken. Then Malcolm gave a mischievous grin. He turned his left palm over and showed her the long scar across his palm. “This is one of my least favorite brushes with magic.”
She took his hand and examined the old scar.
“What happened?” The scar cut across all the major lines, something which Moonstone Falls local fortuneteller Zelda Murphy would call a bad omen.
A shiver passed over her skin. His lifeline was broken in half.
She suddenly pictured her own gravestone, years from now, in the Moonstone Falls Cemetery.
Dead leaves rustled over the grass, and then a footstep pressed down upon the soil above her, a trespass even the dead could not ignore…
She shook the strange premonition from her mind. Malcolm seemed not to notice.
“It’s stupid really, but I don’t mind talking about it.
My dad gave me my first broomstick on my fourteenth birthday.
I was trying to ride it, but brooms are only as strong as the witch or warlock riding them, you know.
And, well…” He jerked his head in the direction of the pumpkin disaster outside.
“My magic gave out. I was really far from home, passing through country roads and fields. I lost my confidence when a storm stirred up around me and I shot up to regain some lost altitude, and somewhere along the way, my broom dropped out from under me. I tried to grab the nearest thing I could reach as I was falling and that happened to be a barbed wire fence. I got hurt and my magic just…left me. I couldn’t fly home.
It took me all night to get back to Boston. ”
Her heart clenched in sympathy. Magic could be very frightening, and without the confidence to wield it, it was easy to get hurt.
“Ouch.” Calli traced the scar beneath her finger. “I’m really sorry I woke you, by the way.”
“It’s fine.” He shot her a crooked grin that was oh so dangerous. “You need some time to shake off the dream?”
“Probably,” she admitted. “I can make some hot cocoa if you want.”
“Sure. I’ll help.”
She pushed her sheets back and stood. Malcolm’s lips twitched when he saw her matching orange pajamas with black bats on them.
“You really love Halloween,” he said.
“You don’t?”
He shrugged. “It’s a solemn holiday for my father. He doesn’t see it as fun. My mother loves it, though.”
“You said she’s non-magic, right?”
“Yeah. She always pestered my father to cast spells all over the house to make it feel extra magical for any kids trick or treating. But for my father and me… a magical holiday just made our strained relationship worse.”
“How come?”
“My father’s side of the family is…prestigious in the magical world. He married a non-magical human, something that everyone in his family and his world frowned upon, and then there was me…a half-blood. I was a disappointment to him.”
There was a hollowness in his voice that tore at Calli, but she didn’t press him with more questions. The lingering effects of her nightmare had left her shaky, and she focused instead on making some cocoa for them.
Down in the kitchen, she heated milk on the stove and added some cocoa while Malcolm watched.
“I thought you said you’d help?” she said. She couldn’t help but sneak glances at his mostly naked body and the way his green eyes focused on her every move.
“Sure. I’ll help you drink it.”
Calli chuckled. She’d never been really comfortable around men, but there was nothing uncomfortable about Malcolm. He was a sexy, irresistible, masculine presence that had no place in a sleepy town like Moonstone Falls, yet he seemed to fit into her world in a way that she couldn’t explain.
“Whipped cream?” she asked, holding up a tub.
“On you or the cocoa?” he asked with a flirty grin. Rather than upset her, his words cut through the tension still coiled tight inside her.
“The cocoa,” she giggled. “Do you flirt with everyone like this?”
He winked. “Only when it wins me a smile like yours.”
She poured the cocoa into two pumpkin-shaped mugs and put whipped cream on top of each, followed by a dash of nutmeg.
They went into the family room, which held her favorite leather couch and a pair of armchairs that faced the fireplace, surrounded by built-in bookshelves covering the walls on either side.
She pretended to blow the fireplace a kiss, and a small burst of light struck the logs, starting a healthy blazing fire.
She curled up on the couch, while he took one of the chairs.
“Nice trick,” Malcolm said as he sipped his cocoa.
“Thanks.” She smiled and licked whipped cream off her lips.
“If I could do that, I’d probably make my signature move—”
“Wait, let me guess. Finger gun.” She mimed the firing of a six-shooter and blew out the imaginary smoke.
“That obvious, huh?”
“Well, you are a guy. It was either that or one of those Japanese anime energy blasts.”
“That was my second choice, yes.” Malcolm eyed his mug with an arched brow. “You really do love pumpkins, don’t you?”
She studied the jack-o’-lantern on her mug.
She’d bought them at the last Halloween festival from a female werewolf who made the most fantastic pottery.
“I do. Ever since I was a kid, I loved pumpkins. Between Halloween and the whole Cinderella’s pumpkin carriage thing, I was sold on the magic of them.
Someday I’ll figure out how to actually conjure up a pumpkin carriage for the kids to ride in that wouldn’t be super gooey inside. ”
Malcolm’s rich laugh made her grin. It was like drinking hot, spicy cider on a cold autumn night. It burned through her in the best possible way.
“So if you don’t like pumpkins, what do you like, Mr. Firestarter?” she teased.
He drank some of his hot chocolate before replying. The green of his eyes darkened into a rich emerald.
“I like the woods. Being out in the trees and the forests. I’m not a professional hiker or anything, but just being outside… it feels like I’m free.”
“I thought you said you lived in Boston?”
“No, I came here from Boston. It’s where my parents live. I live in New York.”
“Okay, that place has even fewer trees.” She couldn’t imagine him living in a big city if he loved the woods.
“It’s not like I’m there all the time. I ride out on the weekends, go to the Catskills or the Adirondacks every few weeks.
I work remote when I can. I dunno, I just like being there.
It’s like there’s something speaking to you in the trees.
Like they know all the secrets of life and are trying to tell you, by not telling you.
” He said it so huskily she wondered if he realized he was talking seductively about trees.
“You sure you’re not part werewolf?”
“Maybe. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom during a full moon…” He tipped his head back and howled.
Hades came barreling down the staircase and howled far louder than Malcolm had. Calli and Malcolm covered their ears.
“Hades, knock it off, it was just me!” Malcolm bellowed. Only then did the dog stop howling. Calli laughed at the dog’s startled expression. “Sorry, I had no idea he would do that.” Malcolm chuckled. “He is usually better behaved. I don’t think he’s used to being around this much magic.”
“You don’t practice magic at home?” She pulled a blanket around her to cuddle deeper into the couch. The leather of the couch was as soft as butter against her skin.
“Not really.” The humor in his eyes vanished. “Magic and I don’t have a great relationship. I don’t really use it, not on purpose anyway. I run a software company and magic isn’t a part of my life. Other than when I’m visiting my parents, I’m not exposed to much magic.”
“You don’t have witch or warlock friends?”