Chapter Three #2
Her gift of healing had its limits, and he was too far gone.
It would have killed her if she tried, so she chose to die with honor.
I saw her fall as he wrapped his hands around her neck.
Mom knew I would see. With her last breath, she asked me to always take care of Lace.
We always talked about Lace’s lack of stable power, and she worried about her.
She told me Lace would come into her magic when she found her bond, but I had to be there to guide and protect her until then.
She delivered her message and closed her eyes.
He stood over her, not upset over what he did, but angry at her for not allowing him to live.
His soul was tainted with more sin than killing her.
He ran and left Mom's body in the yard for us to find. Lace was a mess. I knew I had to step up. Our father was human and had died when we were too young to remember him, but Mom said he was still watching over us. It was up to me to make the decisions. We had an aunt, but we didn’t know her well.
Mom didn’t get along with her and hadn’t seen her since before we were born.
I may have only been a teenager, but my soul was old.
I did the only thing I could. We buried her under the tree where she would sit for hours.
I blessed her grave and scattered her favorite flowers around it.
She taught me to be strong, yet always enjoy the beauty in life.
I made Lace swear to tell no one of her death.
We didn’t have any family we knew, and I feared they would split us up.
We couldn’t be raised by humans. It took all the skill my young heart had to spell the house, protect it, and put up a wall to keep visitors out.
Even years later, I have a hard time doing protection spells.
The memories of why I had to do it before hold me back.
We continued to go to school, keeping up appearances.
If someone asked about Mom, I would spell them to forget they did and make them assume they saw her.
I did it for years and worked after school to feed us until we graduated from high school.
The house was paid for, but it held too many memories of her death instead of her light, so we left.
I couldn’t imagine selling it, so I pay a woman to keep up the yard and house.
We hide our grief and the holes in our hearts from losing her.
I try to remember the good, like her hands, long hair blowing in the breeze, and a giving soul. I wanted to be just like her.
I have failed her in so many ways, except one. Lace has always known my love, and I have protected her even though it cost me a piece of my soul.
My heartbeat is back to normal, and my headache is easing. As I sit up, I feel something unusual. It isn’t caused by the touch. I frown. My body becomes energized. I step away from the couch.
He’s coming.
I freeze as I hear the door open. Closing my eyes, a new sense of peace flows through the magic in my body.
“Excuse me,” Lace says. “Who are you? And how did you open…” She trails off as she recognizes someone like us. Witches can sense magic in another. “Uh…Mara?”
Opening my eyes, I watch the man prowl down the aisle, his intent focused on me.
His dirty blonde hair brushes his eyelashes, and his green-yellow eyes blaze.
He’s gorgeous. The jeans he wears are ripped, faded, and tucked into his brown boots.
His long-sleeved shirt is tight, and the three buttons are unbuttoned, showing the numerous black tattoos on his neck.
I glance at his fisted hands, strong and tattooed.
I want to rub my cheek against the scruff on his.
His power fills the store and calls to mine.
He looks intense, yet I don’t feel fear. A voice in my head whispers: home.
He stops an inch away, and I stare into his eyes. “Don’t…” He cups the side of my face, his fingers spread, his thumb pressing on my chin.
“Touch,” he rumbles, and the spells in his voice make me gasp. “Why can’t I touch?” He tilts his head, his gaze moving over my face.
I gulp. “I…” His memories don’t flow through his hands. “Holy shit. I can’t feel your emotions.”
“Good. If you could see inside me, you wouldn’t be so calm,” he informs me.
“Wait. Wait.” I can’t wrap my head around what is happening.
“I’ve waited long enough,” he whispers. “Is your name Mara?”
“Yes.” I still feel none of his life.
“I’m Rome.”
“Rome,” I say softly.
“Fuck, say it again,” he demands.
“Rome.” I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. He can touch me. I don’t have to avoid someone's touch. Hesitantly, I grip the sides of his shirt.
“Jesus,” he mumbles, and I meet his eyes.
“Your energy is electric.” He inhales, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.
“I feel it in every cell.” The lights flicker.
I watch him in fascination. The books behind me bang together, and I tear my eyes away from him.
Shocking me, the shelves beside us vibrate.
“What is happening?” I ask, looking back at him. The power is coming from him; it has to be.
“I suck up the emotions of everyone I come in contact with. I can neutralize the feelings, taking only the power it gives me,” he explains, touching his forehead to mine. “Why do you have so many inside you?”
“I feel the life of everyone I touch.” The pain from the bad man disappears.
I still remember everything, but it’s as if I am looking at it clinically.
His emotions are gone. “You took away my pain.” I stare at him in wonder.
His eyelashes are long and almost touch mine.
He rolls his head back and forth against me.
“It’s intoxicating,” he groans. “I’ve never felt so much at once.” The light bulb in the lamp beside the couch bursts.
“I haven’t been touched in a very long time,” I admit. He stops moving and brings his other hand to my opposite cheek, holding my face in his hands, and I feel like crying.
“So you see and feel memories?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes. Everything they have done. Everything they are, I feel in torturous detail,” I whisper.
“Shit,” he grits out, brushing his thumb over my lip.
“Umm…” Lace slowly steps toward us. “I hate to interrupt. Can you control your spells? My tattoo guns are buzzing like crazy. One of the shelves fell over, and your friend is scowling at me.”
“Archer, quit being a dick,” he says, and his voice vibrates through me. “Give me a minute and I’ll pull back.” He directs his words toward Lace, but my body soaks up the timbre.
“You have to stop,” I whisper, aching to have his lips against mine.
“Why?” he asks.
“If you don’t,” I breathe. “I’m going to orgasm.”
“That’s not a bad thing.” He smirks.
“I don’t want to in front of my sister.” My stomach clenches when he laughs, and it fills the tired spaces in my soul.
“Alright, Mara.” He slides his hands from my face, and I groan. I lean forward, pulled to him as he steps back. I freeze and take a deep breath. “I’ll stop. For now.” I stare into his eyes, craving his touch again. “Stop looking at me like that,” he demands through gritted teeth.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I felt a loss when you backed away.”
“Mara, fuck,” he breathes.
“I know what’s happening, yet I don’t,” I say. He is my soul bond, and I feel desperate to connect with him again. Yet I can’t grasp the scope of his magic.
“We’ll figure it out together,” he says softly.
“Mara, are you okay?” Lace asks, slowly moving to my side.
“Yes.” I look at her briefly. “This is Rome.” He’s only two feet away, but the distance is too much. “This is my sister, Lace.” He nods.
“Archer,” Rome says, looking over his shoulder. “He’s my best friend and doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” My bond’s lips quirk, and I want to bite him.
“Hey,” Archer says. He steps close to Rome, and I focus on him. He has black hair and dark eyes. He’s larger than Rome, his muscles straining his sleeves, and he has several tattoos on his bare arms. I can see the appeal he must have, but with Rome in front of me, I see no one else.
“Archer did a location spell to find you,” Rome says.
“I should thank him,” I whisper.
“If you must.” Rome grins, and I stare at his mouth again.
“You’re distracting.”
“Good.” His smile grows.
“She just recovered from the touch of a man,” Lace says, and I widen my eyes at her.
“A man?” Rome narrows his eyes.
“I wear gloves.” I hold up my hands. “To avoid the touch of others. He touched the skin above the gloves, and his memories transferred to me.” I drop my arms, uncomfortable with Archer’s probing stare.
“I saw the kind of man he is. He’s killed women.
His girlfriends.” I would never discuss magic with strangers, but I feel their power. My body urges me to trust Rome.
“So you saw their deaths?” Rome asks.
“Yes. Felt them too.”
“Jesus,” Archer says.
“Mara.” Rome steps close and grabs my hand.
“This is the burden you live with.” I inhale sharply as he slowly pulls the leather from my fingers.
No one has ever taken them off me. It shouldn’t be a sensual experience, yet it is.
I watch his face while he stares at my hands as he removes the gloves.
“Do you always wear them?” he asks, looking at me.
The shelves begin to move again, and I hear the computer on the desk begin to play music.
“Yes, almost always. Of course, I take them off when I’m alone. It’s easier to wear them.” I gulp when he turns my hand over and kisses my palm. Another bulb shatters.
“Why leather?” he asks, kissing my other hand.
I clear my throat. “I found it works best. Cotton doesn’t shield as well.”
“I love the smell of leather,” he mumbles, and playfully bites my thumb.
“Rome, fuck,” Archer grumbles, and I glare at him.
“Pay no attention to him,” Rome says. “He finds me annoying.”
“Why? Isn’t he your friend?” I glare harder, not liking Archer’s attitude.
“Best friend. He knows me too well.” He kisses both hands again and releases them. “Don’t worry; he also annoys me.”
“I’m super happy Mara met you, but our store is not going to survive if you don’t back off,” Lace hisses.
“Sorry, sister,” Rome says, glancing at her, and Lace jerks. Her cheeks blush, and she lowers her eyes. “I need some time to adjust and control her effect on my magic.”
“I understand,” Lace says, and my mouth drops open. She looks at me and shrugs.
“Do I get to call Mara sister?” Archer asks.
“No.” Rome crosses his arms, facing his friend.
“Why?” he asks, a smile on his lips.
“I don’t like it,” Rome states.
“Tough shit,” he replies.
“Whatever,” Rome sighs. “What do you want to do about the man?” he asks, tilting his head.
“I’m not sure. I thought about turning him in. What proof do I have?” I flex my fingers, the air almost foreign against them.
“True.” Rome meets Archer's eyes and then looks at me. “Then we need to kill him.”
“Easy as that?” I ask. I have no doubt he deserves to die, but I’ve never used my magic in this way.
“He’s a murderer. Right?”
“Yes. I felt the fear and death. I saw where he dumps the bodies.” Books thud on the floor, and I jump.
“Rome,” Lace growls.
“That wasn’t me,” he says, his eyes crinkling. “You assume the only magic in the air is mine.” He studies my bare hands. “You are powerful, Mara.”
“It’s both of you,” Archer says. “You are a wicked combination. Until the bond is secure, shit’s going to continue to fly through the air.” He waves his finger. “I agree. We need to stop the killer. He can’t continue.”
“Have you used magic to kill before?” Rome asks me.
“No.” I pause, thinking of the shifters that died in the Games. I wasn’t the one who killed them. “Have you?”
“Yes,” he answers. His reply should scare me, but my magic is pushing me to trust him.
“For good reason,” Archer adds.
“Well, at least it was for a good reason,” Lace says dryly, and Archer glares at her.
“You know nothing,” Archer says, and a book pops out of the shelf beside him, hitting his shoulder.
“Don’t be mean to her,” I warn.
“Fuck, I love it,” Rome says, laughing. “Mara can keep you in line.”
“Shit, sorry,” Archer says.
“We could call in a tip to the police,” Lace suggests.
“Or spell his dick to fall off,” Archer says.
“We could make him have a heart attack if he raises his hand in anger,” Lace continues, grinning at Archer.
“Good one,” he says, grinning back. “His memories could be erased.”
“You can do that?” I ask Archer, and he shrugs, giving me nothing.
“Killing him will solve the issue,” he says.
“I agree,” Rome says.
“Of course you would,” Lace says, and I’m surprised. She is usually quiet and doesn’t open up to new people. “We could see if Savy would read him.”
“She left for her grandma's, remember?” I say.
“Who is Savy?” Rome asks.
“She’s our friend. She can see things. Her gift is subjective, and she’s out of town for a few weeks,” I explain. I don’t want to reveal too much about her without her permission.
“Can she see things on demand?” Archer asks, and I sense his interest.
“No.”
“We can do a location spell,” Rome says.
“Let’s go in the back,” Lace suggests. “It doesn’t have windows.” I’m staring at Archer, and Lace grabs my hand before I can pull away.
“Shit.”
There are some things you don’t want to know about your sister.