Chapter 11 #2
Buzzing with enough power that I can alter a magic realm with a single thought and make food and drink appear from thin air. Do things that even the strongest witch can’t do and would probably kill for. It’s a lot to take in.
Instead of being fixed, I am different again. “Is it too much to ask that I be a normal witch?” With a thud, I smack my head against the desk. I do it again to punish myself. To knock some sense into my stupid broken head.
Why does it have to be me? I swallow down my frustration and the festering pain that sits inside me. I’ve gone from being the witch who is an embarrassment to this…
A host. A world maker.
How the hell can I do this? I can’t. There is no way.
Fate chose the wrong person. I’m not strong enough.
I’m not brave enough. I’ve spent my entire life so far running away from magic.
Running away from everything. To do this, I will have to embrace everything I hate.
The magic I hate. I can’t do this. I can’t.
Not when I can’t move from being a frozen pathetic lump on the floor.
Bloody hell, Tuesday, woman the fuck up.
I would but I’m so frightened. I wipe at the stupid tears that are streaming down my face. I am so bloody frightened.
The mobile Owen gave me rings, and its shrill tone scares me half to death.
I almost ignore it. I almost sink into the pity party I’m throwing myself.
Almost. I sniff and robotically drop my knees and lift my bum from the floor so I can get my fingers into the tight pocket.
I answer, and with a shaky hand, put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I croak.
“Where are you, Flash?” His voice is rough. He sounds worried. Listening to him and that silly nickname somehow centres me and smashes through the dark layers of my panic and fear. Without knowing it, he lends me a little bit of strength.
“I’m in a pocket dimension,” I rasp.
“A pocket dimens—” He blows into the receiver and the sound rustles. I think he rubs his face. “Wow, you have been busy.”
“Yes.” I hiccup a sob.
“Okay, do you need help? Do you want me to come and get you? Tell me what you need.”
Do you need help? Unless they’re being paid, no one has ever asked me that before. Woah there, don’t make it something it’s not. Don’t forget Dad sent him. I sniffle. It has been so long since I asked anyone for help. “Please,” I say through the lump in my throat.
“Ah shit, Tuesday, you’re killing me here. Are you safe?”
“Yes.” I think so.
“Can you get out?”
“I don’t know… Y-yes, maybe?”
There’s a pause as he thinks through what I’m not saying. “Do you want to leave?”
“Things are… complicated.”
“We can fix complicated together. So the entrance to this pocket dimension is in Scotland?”
“I think so.” I wish I could wave a magic wand and bring him here.
My hands and feet tingle, and the swirling patterns I can see etched on my skin begin to move in time with the pounding of my heart.
What? I have the urge to scratch at my arms and tear the marks off my skin.
I don’t like this. I draw in big, panicky gulps of air, but the oxygen in the room has thickened, and it is almost impossible to breathe.
My chest aches and my throat burns. Something is happening.
“Tuesday? Tuesday? Flash, talk to me.” The phone slips from my hand and clatters to the floor. My ears buzz and whoosh like I am underwater.
Pain shoots across my chest and the magic—my magic—floods out of me. My back bows and my head smacks against the wood. A terrified scream leaves my lips. With frightened tears streaming down my face, I watch as the magic hits a spot in the centre of the room and spreads out.
The area gets darker. It shimmers. Then, like it is made of glass and I have just taken a hammer to it, reality splinters.
The very fabric of the world cracks. The crack widens and a black hole appears. It’s round and so dark, it is like I have made a black hole into the universe. A black, endless hole that will suck me inside.
My feet scrabble against the floor, and I press back against the wooden desk.
My shoulder blades and spine dig into the ornate surface.
What the fuck is that? I have never felt this frightened.
An ominous feeling of impending doom is screaming through my bones.
I feel so bloody helpless. Even when the mercenaries came and the elf attacked me, what I felt was child’s play compared to this.
I don’t know how I know—perhaps some inbuilt thing inside me recognises the sensation—but the pocket realm adds its magic to the mix until the rippling hole solidifies.
The colour changes from black to dark green, and it stabilises.
There is movement. A massive shadow appears in the centre of the hole and a person walks through.
“Oh my goodness, this isn’t happening. It is not happening,” I mutter as I slam my eyes closed. I’m done. I’m not brave enough to look upon my impending death. There is a whisper of movement, and instead of eating my face off, a big warm body smoothly sits on the floor beside me.
“Hey, Flash, you’re okay. I’m here.” The hellhound tucks me into his side. A warm, solid, enormous arm folds around me, enveloping me in the best kind of hug.
Owen.
It is Owen.
I let out a relieved sob and I sag into his arms. “What? How? I don’t understand,” I say, mumbling into his very solid chest.
“You sent a portal.”
“No… I didn’t. That is not possible.” I pull away and gape up at him in disbelief. “I sent a portal?”
“Well, I presumed it was you.”
“But that is impossible. No one can make portals out of thin air.” No one can make a cup of tea appear from thin air either.
The magic is omnipotent. “So, I opened a portal? I guess it makes sense as I drove here using a magical driveway, so of course, I can open gateways to friends in other worlds without thinking about it.” Why not?
“Wait… You just hopped into a random portal?”
“You needed me,” he says earnestly, looking down at me with those beautiful grey eyes. “You were crying, and you screamed. Of course, I jumped into the portal.”
I shake my head in disbelief and hold him a little bit tighter. “Thank you. Don’t do that again for me though; that was so dangerous. But thank you so much for coming.”
“I never should have left you. I should have driven you my damn self. I’m an idiot. You’re not getting away from me again until I know you’re safe,” he grumbles into my hair.
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” It was me.
I was super insistent that I could drive myself.
The thought of driving hours in the same car as Owen was…
Let’s just say, after I’d embarrassed myself so fully with the bottom zombie shuffle, I had a huge motivation for me to drive alone.
When it comes down to it, at my core, I’m too introverted and awkward.
“What about the elf?” I say into the fabric of his chest.
“Forrest is hunting him as we speak. I’m here for you.
” It should feel weird that I’m allowing this man, a hellhound I’ve only just met, to manhandle me and offer me comfort.
I ignore the voice of my mum that screams impropriety and instead snuggle closer into his warmth.
“Don’t you know?” His pause makes me lift my chin to peek at him.
“We are bottom buddies.” His eyes dance with mirth as I groan.
I tuck myself back into his side and let out a horrified laugh. Bottom buddies. Oh heck. I can’t believe he made me laugh.
How can I not fall instantly in love with this man?