Chapter 21
afterlight
Mid-afternoon, and after a gentle snuggling, focused nap, Callie and Jess piled into Jess’s SUV, ready to take Callie home.
Backing out, Callie caught Jess surveying items that were blocking the other half of Jess’s garage. She didn’t say anything, just in case she’d misinterpreted. She just smiled and settled comfortably into the seat.
Halfway to Callie’s apartment, the silence between them seemed to swell. Callie stole a peek at Jess’s expression. She looked tired and likely as overwhelmed as Callie.
“So…” Callie began and saw Jess’s startled look. She reached across the console, “probably another nap for you. Me, too.”
“You okay?”
“I’m happy,” Jess managed to squeak out and clasped Callie’s hand. She took a breath, then held it.
“I’m scared, too,” Callie whispered, allowing Jess to exhale, “while I would not change a single moment of our night together…it was...” She dissolved into a grin, clutching a container of Jess’s mac and cheese, “Delicious.”
“A lot,” Jess said, “and Cam, this morning. I half expect him to come home and call me into the living room for the talk. Jeez, Cal…the whole team?”
“The night of the fire pit,” Callie recalled, “when your young Gandalf covered us with the blanket.” Callie squeezed Jess’s hand, “he gave me a little shove toward you.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks, “He knew I liked you.”
“You’d just met,” Jess gasped.
“Apparently, discussions were had in my regard,” Callie offered, her eyes happily flaring.
“A lot,” Jess chuckled, “apparently.” She blew a long breath, “You’ll have to ask him.”
“I’m gonna,” Callie said quietly, then kissed the back of Jess’s hand, “in time, though. No hurry.”
Jess’s eyes went to Callie, “What do you mean?”
“We probably shouldn’t see each other for a day or two. Keep it like it has been. Our normal.” She waggled her head, hearing how that sounded to her, “Although I will reminisce about the flicking of your tongue everywhere on my body. We can text and talk, of course, but let’s let it sink in. All of this.”
“All of this,” Jess repeated so quickly. “For me, anyway. You’re a little ahead of me in that regard. Did I short-circuit you?”
“Maybe a little,” Callie admitted, “or at least where I can finish complete sentences without moaning your name.”
Jess’s shoulders hunched with a happy little grin, “That, I understand.”
Callie smiled warmly, “There ya go. Give that some time to mellow. When did your feelings start? I know when it did for me. It was a black jeans day. You turned in a cookbook, and I was dazzled.”
“But a whole two days?” Jess fussed, and Callie screamed with laughter, “At least one,” she giggled, “and I have zero willpower with you anyway. It might matter,” she shrugged, “You and Cam can talk, and I’m not there hanging on you.”
“I want you to hang on me,” Jess pouted, “how come I feel like the one still in junior high?”
“We date,” Callie said, her eyes flashing, “we romance each other…” She kissed Jess’s hand again, “for a very long time. Today is already a third over, and tomorrow is Monday, and I have to work anyway. A Monday break, then Tuesday, game on.”
Jess pulled into Callie’s parking lot and pulled up to the door. Callie leaned over the console, “Gentle kiss, please,” she requested, “But you can talk naughty to me if you want.”
Jess closed the gap, being careful as they kissed once, then again, “I want.” She whispered, “I’ll text you tenderness updates.”
Callie pulled back, aghast at Jess’s boldness, “That implies some touching. That is sexting big time.” Callie climbed out of the SUV and ran to the other side. Jess rolled down her window. “Is it Tuesday yet?”
Jess smiled, “Too much…all at once?”
“No. No, God, Jess. You…were—are exactly who I wanted.” The enthusiasm faded, “It’s just I’ve never been wanted back like that before. My brain is…overthinking again.”
“That I get,” Jess said, then reached her hand out the window. “I want you, Cal,” she smiled, her eyes pooling again. “I think for a very long time.”
Callie pulled back a little, and Jess tightened her fingers on Callie’s. “I want you…beside me when I’m quiet. Your thoughts tangled with mine. On top of me if I forget how to breathe.”
Callie put her hand to her chest and gasped, then again. With tears streaming, Jess continued, “And inside me. Not just your body, your wild mind, the one that brings sense to my chaos.” Jess took a breath, a moment just to stare. Drinking in how the sunlight filtered through her curls. “I want to build something brilliant with you and…” she blew out a long, satisfied breath, “I want you to wreck me, too.”
Callie’s voice was small, breaking, “Jess…” She leaned back to the window, tempted to crawl through, “I didn’t know I could be wanted like that.”
“You are,” Jess swallowed, “whether I know how to say it properly or not…you are. I’m scared, too.”
“Can I do something?” Callie whispered.
“Anything.”
Callie tapped Jess’s forehead gently. A whisper touch. Her brow arched, asking a simple question, and Jess answered by leaning forward. Callie rested her forehead on Jess’s and held still. The calm Jess so desperately needed to be kept silent as she rode out the ache, the almost, and the unsaid.
Callie pulled away, “So…Tuesday.” Her cheeks twitched. “After work.”
Jess kept looking as tears and memories rolled. Good ones, family ones. She nodded, “Tuesday.”
Callie slowly shut the door behind her. No slamming or locking. She stood there, keys dangling, then tossed them into the bowl with old mail. She dropped her bag, her jacket, and the rest of her defenses.
“She wants me,” Callie whispered, gently touching her forehead. Then came the tears. Not gentle or brief. Ugly, sudden sobs that rocked her knees and blurred her vision. She dropped to the floor before she could stop herself, pressed her face into her sleeves, and let the sound out.
The room had gone eerily silent. Callie rolled over to stare at the ceiling.
She laughed quietly at first, then harder, and then realized something odd: she was hugging herself. Arms wrapped around her body like someone had finally arrived from a long trip away. That someone was her.
“Wouldn’t the sofa be a much softer spot for a breakdown?”
Solrien’s voice had an edge, and Callie rolled over to look at her staff propped against the lounge chair.
“You want soft,” she said quietly, “I woke up in Jess’s arms this morning. That’s soft.” She grinned, sniffling, “And strong…and safe…and mine. I’m good right here, thanks.”
“Saints, Callie, you are so weird.”
Callie sniffed, her face red and splotchy, eyes a wild shade of joy, “She loves my weird. All of it. All of me.”
Callie rolled onto her back, “I didn’t run away. I believed.”
“In Jess,” Solrien said softly, “I understand.”
“No,” Callie corrected, “I mean, yes, but that’s not what this is. I finally believe in me.”
Again, the apartment was quiet; then Callie sat up. She looked at the staff, then around the room.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Solrien asked, “The weight of this moment…how alive and receptive you are.”
Callie’s wide eyes answered, “Low blood sugar? We were up late…and early…and after breakfast, too. We were both receptive…we ruined each other…repeatedly.”
“Goodness,” Solrien blurted, then went briefly silent. When she spoke again, her tone had become flat, instructive, “We must prepare you, Callista. Because now, you are an open source. You’re drawing magic like breath to flame. Broadcasting on a frequency the world forgot to listen for.”
Callie turned, “What do you mean?”
“Your connection with Jess, yes, multiple times, I get it. It will fuel your magic. Your bond with Jess is no longer subtle. It’s alive. Loud.”
“Was she ever,” Callie seconded, snorting, still bathing in the afterglow. “Oh, sorry.”
“Be careful what you shout, Callie. Magic listens. So does fate.”
“Because I let her in?”
“No.” Solrien’s frustration was growing, “Because you unlocked. Yourself. Emotion, power, certainly pleasure.”
Callie hugged herself again, “Mmmmm, pleasure. I have a bite mark on the inside of my thigh. Wanna see?”
“It’s rushing in,” Solrien bleated, “you need to be careful. Take precautions soon. You have probably always been a Seer, a powerful one who learned to cope with running away. Denying your ability at your own expense.”
The runes along Callie’s staff flared brightly. Solrien was angry, “A Seer should ease in. Learn to interpret what’s real and what is embellished by your own desires. Callie, you are bathed in Afterlight. You wear your Lover’s Shine like…”
The runes went dark, and the staff wobbled in the crook of the armchair and then rolled to clatter on the floor. It moved without Callie’s touch. She lunged for it, breath catching in her chest. Callie pulled the staff to her chest like a wounded animal, “What did you mean?”
Her voice was trembling, “Lover’s shine. Solrien, what is it?”
“Solrien,” Callie shouted, her voice breaking, “I wear it like what?”
No response. The runes remained dark, and Callie’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I just didn’t know it meant something to you.”
The runes, how Solrien had first expressed herself to Callie, stayed dark. Then, an echo from centuries before, “Her scent still clings. It always will. It will trail behind you in every breath.”
Callie froze, her hands pulling Solrien’s staff to her chest.
“I wore it once, too.” Solrien whispered, “I didn’t want to wash it away, and every time I caught it, I remembered why I’d fallen. She was wild and laughed when she cried. Bit me harder when I doubted.”
Callie choked a halting gasp. She had grasped the centuries-old connection.
“I thought loving her would make me invincible, but it didn’t. It made me visible. And when the war came, the ones who hated our kind of magic could smell her on me..could taste our bond in my blood.
“Then, I lost her. Not to time or to death, but to fear. Mine…hers…the world as we knew it. And I have walked ever since with her kisses still stitched into the hollow of my throat.”
Callie pressed her forehead to the hickory shaft, sobbing, “I’m sorry. Solrien, I’m being selfish. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“It was my burden to bear, not yours,” Solrien said quietly. “You wear your Lover’s Shine like I once did. Be braver with it than I was.”
“You still miss her,” Callie said. It wasn’t a question. She understood.
“Every day. But not just the love, I miss who I was when she looked at me.”
Callie moved the staff to her cheek, wet with tears, “Then I’ll be brave. For her. And for you.”
“Then I bless your lover’s scent…that it never fades and always calls you home.”
“Thank you,” Callie whispered, “and I’m exhausted. Think I’ll lie down for a while. Want to join me?”
“I would like that,” Solrien said softly, “sorry I got after you.”
Standing, Callie held the staff as she walked into her bedroom. Gently setting the staff on the bed, she crawled over and lay down with a long breath. She tapped her staff, “You okay?”
“Might I suggest you try to power down your mana for a while?” Solrien’s voice was soft. Her anguished tone was gone. “Yes, I’m fine. I haven’t talked about that for…a long time.”
Callie rolled over, placed her hand on the staff, and closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds.
“Sleep well, my gentle friend. You are a beacon whose light shows no malice.”
The runes pulsed softly along the staff, and Callie’s lips curled into a soft smile.
“Sleep well,” Solrien repeated, knowing Callie was out like a light, “dream of your dear Jessemay.”
The staff’s glow dimmed to a hush, the room bathed in a blue so soft it could hardly be called light. The runes pulsed in a slow rhythmic shimmer, like breath. Solrien didn’t hover and didn’t whisper her blessing again. She simply watched, like an ancient stone beside a temple threshold. A keeper of doors. She had been a witness to the transformation.
Callie had touched her own power tonight. Not in anger. Not in lust or fear but in acceptance. She would no longer run from the future; she would face her truth head-on.
“She will see more,” Solrien called out as if broadcasting to the heavens, “She will see what must be seen…and what she would rather not.”
A breeze shifted the curtains at the window.
“She will not be ready,” Solrien added softly, “But she will be willing. And that will be enough.”