Nineteen
ZACH
Time loses meaning in the aftermath of the most intense, mind-blowing sex I've ever had. I don't know if Morgan added some sex magic to the mix, but it was incredible. Beyond incredible. No word encompasses the experience we just shared.
I do my best not to crush her as we lie there, panting. Her fingers trail up and down my back, soothing the scratches she put there earlier. I'm incapable of even that level of movement.
Eventually, I regain some control over my skeleton and roll off her and onto my side next to her.
I'm about to ask what to do with the condom, since there's no trash nearby, when she snaps her fingers and it's gone. More magical benefits. I should've opened my mind years ago. Magic has a lot of perks.
I turn toward her and trace my finger down her cheek, gently turning her face to me. "I wasn't bullshitting you before. That wasn't just sex talk." I swallow against the hard lump in my throat. I'm not used to being this vulnerable. "I'm falling for you, Morgan. Hard. I don't want this to end."
Her lips twitch like she's fighting a smile. "I don't either." She rolls onto her side and puts her palm against my chest. "I really fucking hate being vulnerable or talking about feelings. But I'm falling for you too."
The last is said in a whisper that gets quieter with each word. The fact she could even say it feels like a gift.
"That was some birthday present." Her voice is teasing.
I take the hint. She needs the mood to lighten. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. But I kind of hope I'm not done giving you birthday presents this evening."
She gives me a wicked smile. "I'm counting on it."
I scoot closer to her, putting my body mere inches from hers. My chest just barely grazes her breasts. Which I fully intend to spend time worshiping later tonight.
I've lost track of time but the sun is nearly set, twilight fading into darkness.
"Wanna see something cool?" There's a note of uncertainty under the swagger in her voice.
"I'd love to." I slide a strand of her hair through my fingers, then twist it around my index finger. I need to be in contact with her at all times.
"I've been working on this for a while, and I didn't know why. But I think I was just waiting so I could show it to you and you'd believe it wasn't a sort of optical illusion."
Her words hit a little too hard. "I'm so sorry I was so dense for so long. If it makes it any better, one of the reasons you frustrated me so much is because I couldn't reconcile the woman I know with the picture I created of your family. None of you seem like frauds, and I should have trusted that instinct."
She studies the tattoo on my chest, a giant sunflower on my left pec with the stem running down the center of my chest. Traces her finger around each petal. "You should have. I'm glad you're coming around."
"Not coming around. I'm here. I believe you. It's still hard to imagine you really talk to dead people?—"
"Spirits."
"—but I do believe that you do. I trust you, Morgan."
Expression shy, she looks up and meets my gaze. "I trust you too."
Emotion swells up in my chest and I have to kiss her. It's not a want, it's a necessity. My lips press against hers in a hard, possessive kiss as my hand slides into her hair. But as she starts to open to me, she pulls back.
"OK, we're definitely doing this. Again. But first I want to show you this."
I force my breath to come slow and even. I nod. "Show me."
She closes her eyes and raises her hand in the air. She moves it in a circle, starting small and gradually growing bigger.
With a snap, she throws her fingers wide and glittery light bursts from her palm, filling the darkness with what looks like starlight. Or Christmas tree lights. The golden light swirls around us in lazy circles, moving higher and higher into the night sky.
I'm awestruck. It's beautiful. "You're doing this." It's not a question. How could it be when I can see the light originating in the center of her palm. "This is amazing, Morgan."
Her eyes are open now and she's grinning. The most beautiful, dazzling smile I've ever seen.
"This is almost as beautiful as you are right now."
She rolls her eyes but keeps smiling. "There isn't really a practical use for this, but it's fun."
"It's making you happy. Seems practical enough to me." My chest warms, seeing her so delighted .
"Yeah, it is." She looks over at me. "And it's even better because I'm sharing it with someone I care about."
Again there's that hesitation, the vulnerability in her voice.
"I'm glad you're sharing it with me. And I care about you too." I'm half in love with her. I'd probably be all the way there if I hadn't been such a dipshit about magic, convincing myself she was someone she's not. Hell, I might be there anyway. I don't know.
"OK, this is taking a shit ton of energy, so if I don't stop, I'm gonna need to take a nap." Gradually the light recedes, shrinking back into her hand until it disappears.
We lie there in silence for a few moments once the darkness falls over us again. I'm about to suggest we clean up our stuff and head inside to her bed, but she speaks first.
"There's something I should probably tell you."
Something in the heaviness of her tone puts me on instant alert. Dread unfurls in my chest. "OK," I say cautiously.
She resumes her intense study of my sunflower tattoo. "Please understand I would have told you sooner, but I knew you wouldn't believe me."
"Ooooh-kaaay." I'm not gonna like this. I already know.
"So, usually when I talk to spirits, I have to summon them. Ask them to appear and talk to me. But every once in a while, one will show up without being summoned. Usually when they have an important message for me to relay to a loved one." She smiles faintly. "Once my grandpa showed up, just to chat. That was nice."
My whole body is tense, waiting for the bombshell I know is coming. "OK."
Her gaze darts up to meet mine, then immediately skitters away. "So, when we were driving back from Milwaukee. After, you know, the concert and everything. We're driving, and all of a sudden Maria tells me there's another spirit with her in the back seat."
Maria was in the car with us? Does she, like, hang around with Morgan all the time? Surely she isn't— "Maria isn't here right now, is she?"
"Deities, no. She knows when I need privacy."
I exhale deeply. That would be one step too far into the weird for me.
"Anyway, I didn't want to talk to the spirit since you were there and I was tired of you discounting my abilities."
"And again, feel really shitty about that and am extremely sorry."
She nods like it's no big deal now. It's a little disorienting how readily she's forgiven me for that. I appreciate it, but I didn't expect it would be this easy.
"Since that day, this spirit and I have talked a few times. What she really wants, more than anything, is to talk to her son through me."
My pulse speeds up as my heart starts pounding, the dread growing larger. Part of me seems to know what's coming, even if my conscious brain hasn't caught up yet. All I know is I'm really not going to like it.
She finally looks up and meets my eyes, holding them. Hers are soft and pleading and her expression cuts through me.
"It's you," she whispers. "The spirit is your mom and she wants to talk to you."
Despite the soft, gentle way they're delivered, her words now cut through me like a fucking chainsaw. That's on fire. Everything in me goes rigid and cold. So cold. I can feel myself shaking my head but I'm not aware of doing it. I instinctively pull away from her, moving backward across the blanket, until my ass is on cold grass.
"No. No, why would you say that?" We haven't talked all that much about my mom or her death, but as someone who lost a parent young, I would've expected more understanding.
Her expression turns pleading as she reaches for me. " Because it's true. Zach, your mom wants to talk to you. She wants you to stop blaming yourself for her death."
I can only stare at her. My expression must be as cold as my body, because she sits up and wraps her arms around herself. I've never even told her how much I know my mom's death is my fault; why would she use the few things I've hinted at against me like this?
Moving without thought, I get up and start looking around for my clothes. Just because I believe in magic now—how could I not after what she's shown me tonight?—doesn't mean she can weaponize it against me.
And she said she's falling for me. Wow did I misjudge who she is. She's more like the valueless fraud I thought she was than the grumpy but big-hearted woman I was starting to see her as.
I laugh bitterly at myself.
"Zach, wait. Please."
When I look over my shoulder at her while I pick up my jeans, she's on her knees, expression imploring. And fuck, she's still so damn beautiful, even if I'm furious with her.
"I can't do this. You're not who I thought you were." Holding my clothes but still naked, I walk away.
MORGAN
I have no idea how long I sit in stunned silence, watching as he disappears from sight, listening to the sound of his car starting, then driving away. Then nothing but the symphony of the night.
The sound of my own choked sob startles me. I didn't even realize I'm crying. But I am, apparently. Hot tears roll down my cheeks but I don't bother to wipe them away.
I'm still kneeling, so I drop down on my ass, shivering despite the warming spell that still surrounds me. My gaze snags on my discarded clothes, and my chest implodes. The sobs come in earnest now, racking my whole body.
Are you OK?
Bowie's voice appears in my head. He must be nearby in the trees. Or maybe around the corner on the porch rail, his favorite perch.
"No, I am not fucking OK! Do I seem OK?"
Fair, stupid question. Do you need me to get your sisters?
The idea of coming clean to my sisters, of telling them I've not only been hooking up with Zach, but truly falling for him, makes the tears come harder.
"No," I moan. Hopefully Bowie's close enough to hear me.
Let me know if I can do anything. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry.
The kind thought from my usually stoic bird just hurts even more.
How can this be the end of things with Zach? I meant what I said, that I'm falling for him. Hard. He said he feels the same, but how can he if he won't even hear me out? I know this magic thing is new to him, and I know it's trippy as fuck that I can talk to people no one else sees. But if he really does care, he should know I would never make something like this up.
Then again, what should I expect? For months he thought me and my whole family were making everything up.
A fresh wave of sobs rolls over me. Only this time, the tears feel strange on my face. Cold and hard instead of warm and wet.
I look down at my lap to see crystal chips scattered across my thighs. I wipe my cheek and come away with three more chips.
What the actual fuck?
It's too dark to tell what sort of crystals they are, and I'm too drained to do a light spell. So I snap my fingers to get dressed again, holding a few of the chips in my hand. I head across the lawn to the house, the grass chilly on my bare feet. I don't bother with a warmth spell. I'll be inside soon enough and my floors are heated. Conventional heat, not magical.
Bowie is, indeed, perched on the porch railing as I pass by. "I'm going to bed," I tell him.
To cry myself to sleep, most likely.
Some fucking birthday.
Once I get inside, I flip on the lights and study the chips in my hand. Each is pale pink with occasional swirls of white. Clearly rose quartz.
Which signify unconditional love and self love. And can be used to foster forgiveness. That's some fucking irony.
I'm crying fucking crystals? What in the actual fucking fuck?
In my pocket, where I left it hours ago, my phone chimes. I pull it out to see Bronwen has messaged me and Sirona.
Bronwen: Whoa. Out of nowhere, for no reason, I started crying. Except my tears are fucking sapphire chips.
A chill runs through me. What is happening?
Sirona: You're kidding! The same thing happened to me, except roselite chips. Freaked the crap out of me and Grant.
I realize I'm shaking my head as I stare at my phone. An idea starts niggling at the back of my brain but I'm not ready to form the full thought yet.
Me: me too rose quartz come over i need to talk to you both about something
Bronwen: PUNCTUATION IS YOUR FRIEND!
I ignore my sister's constant harping on my texting style, shove my phone in my back pocket and the crystals in my front pocket, and head back outside to my front porch to wait. I briefly consider cleaning up the picnic since it's obvious what I was up to on that blanket and the vibrator is laying in plain view. But I don't care enough.
The deep hurt inside me is already starting to scab over, leaving me numb. I'm sure I could go back to despair easily if I wanted. But numb is easier. I'm used to numb. Numb doesn't hurt. I was a fool to let myself start actually feeling things for Zach.
Sirona appears first, on her bike. Her black cat familiar, Koko, is perched in the basket on the front of the bike. She parks it immediately comes to hug me.
She leans back and studies my face, a concerned older sister. The urge to collapse against her and resume sobbing is strong, but I fight it, instead clinging to numbness. If I start crying again, the pain might consume me.
"What's going on?" she asks softly.
I close my eyes and try to ground myself in the feel of her hand holding mine. "Can we wait for Bronwen?" My little sister may be a pain in the ass, but she's also one of the most empathetic people I know. Comes with being a love witch, I guess.
Maybe she can make a potion for me, to make it stop hurting so much. To soothe the sense of betrayal. How can he not trust me?
Nope, not going there.
But apparently I did, because another crystal falls from my cheek.
Sirona catches it. "This is so weird." She moves away from me, but only a little. Still holds my hand as we sit on my little porch sofa.
I sink back against the cushion, sighing deeply. Dammit, why does my chest feel like someone cracked it open?
Bronwen comes through the trees and leaps up the steps. A new goat hasn't announced itself as her familiar yet, so she's animal-less. She holds out her hand, full of sapphire chips.
"So what's going on?" She drops down in the chair perpendicular to the couch.
I can feel both of them looking at me, intuitively knowing this centers on me. I stare at my feet, unable to meet either of their gazes.
I need a new pedicure. The deep blue on my toenails is chipping.
OK, focus.
I could tell Koko and she can tell Sirona, if you want , Bowie offers.
"Thanks, but no." I look at my owl so my sisters know I'm talking to him. Then I clear my throat and roll my shoulders.
"So, uh, I've kind of been... well, hooking up with Zach and?—"
"I knew it!" Bronwen slaps her knee. "I told you you'd be together by the wedding."
Another wave of grief rolls up in my chest, making me feel like I'm going to throw up. "Yeah, well, I fucked it all up. We will not be together at the wedding."
Shit. We still have last minute wedding things to get in order. Things we've planned to do together. I can't. I just can't. There's no way I can be around him right now.
I close my eyes and immediately see that look of disgust and betrayal he gave me before he left. Pain slices through me.
"Sweetie, tell us what happened."
So I do. Slowly, brokenly, barely holding back a new round of sobs, I tell them how we first hooked up, how it became more, how we both said we want it to be more. And then I tell them about his mom and how she's been coming to me, asking me to help her talk to Zach.
"So I told him that, tonight. And he just... he got so mad. Said I was lying, that he couldn’t be around me. And he left. He just left."
Real tears come again, interspersed with the occasional crystal. It's bizarre, but I can't stop it. I can't find the numbness, and the grief is overwhelming.
Sirona brushes my hair, which is damp from tears, back from my face. She uses her thumb to wipe away some of the moisture on my cheeks. "Oh, sweetie. I'm so sorry. You're really in love with him, aren't you?"
"You totally are," Bronwen agrees.
Am I? Is that why this hurts so much, more than anything I've ever experienced? "I don't know. I know we were more than just sex, but I'm not sure it's love. Not yet."
"Hate to break it to you, Morgan, but this is definitely love," Bronwen says.
And of course, she knows. Love witch and all.
Shit.
"Wait a minute!" She claps her hands together. "Is that what the crystals are? Why all three of us had them and not just Morgan?"
Sirona looks at her, then back at me. "Rose quartz is love and self love."
"Sapphire is love and commitment," Bronwen adds.
"And roselike is love and emotional healing," I mumble. This doesn't exactly feel like emotional healing. The opposite, really.
"Holy shit, you broke the next layer of the curse," Bronwen says. "You're in love with him enough that it broke the curse."
Fuck my life.
"Real fucking convenient to figure that out right after he decides he hates me for good." I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I'm about two seconds away from starting to rock myself.
"I'm sure he doesn't hate you," Sirona says. "You gave him a huge shock, and he handled it pretty terribly. But once he has some time to process it, think about it more, I'm sure he'll realize you didn't do it to hurt him."
I rest my forehead on my knees and close my eyes, picturing the coldness in his eyes. You're not who I thought you were .
"No, pretty sure he hates me. Just because I'm in love with him doesn't mean he loves me back."
Holy shit. I'm in love with Zach. I've really let myself fall in love.
Figures I would blow it the fuck up before I can even enjoy it.
"When Grant and I first got together, Nana was sure I was in love with him well before my part of the curse was broken," Sirona says, rubbing circles on my back.
It feels good, and I appreciate her trying to make me feel better. It's what she does. I just wish it helped, even a little.
"The night it finally broke, when we all..."
Her part of the curse breaking was way more fun. She was having sex with Grant, and Bronwen and I were both enjoying ourselves solo. And we all had these otherworldly orgasms. My bedroom turned purple and my vibrator was glowing. It was bizarre. And damn enjoyable.
Crying crystals is bizarre, but I can't say it's enjoyable.
"Yeah, when we all had cosmic sex, what about it?" Bronwen says.
"That was the night Grant realized he was in love with me. And I did the same. I'm pretty sure that to break the curse, the love can't be one-sided. I think you both have to feel it. And know it."
It makes sense, but, "If he's in love with me, how can he think so lowly of me? That I would make up talking to his mom just to hurt him?"
Sirona puts her arm around me and pulls me toward her. I rest my temple on her shoulder.
"Because you shocked the hell out of him. And he doesn't know how to process it." Bronwen gives me an empathetic smile. "And like a lot of guys, he's not great at dealing with his emotions."
I close my eyes. It makes sense. It really does. But that doesn't make it hurt any less .
"So what do I do?" My voice is almost a whine and I hate it.
"You give him time," Sirona says.
"And space," Bronwen adds.
"And you trust that he'll come around." Sirona kisses the top of my head.
"And then you make him grovel like no one has ever groveled before." Bronwen's tone is fierce.
A fresh wave of emotion swells up in me, this time gratitude for my sisters. "Thank you both for coming over."
"Of course," Sirona says. "We'd never let you go through something like this alone."
"Especially on your birthday. I have half a mind to go kick his ass for doing this to you on your birthday."
For a moment, I let myself remember the way he looked at me when he was deep inside me. Telling me he wants more than just sex. Love and pain swirl together and overwhelm me. For a moment, I can't breathe.
"It was a pretty great birthday, actually, up until I told him about his mom," I admit.
"Where is she, anyway? She should be here too, since she's the cause of this," Bronwen says. "And where's Maria?"
"I expected to be having a lot more sex tonight, so I told them both to stay far away."
"Fine," Bronwen grumbles. "I'll allow it."
As if she's my protector. Which in a way, she is. That's what sisters do.
"Think you could whip something up to make this a little easier?" I ask her.
She watches me for a long minute, her brown eyes assessing me. Finally she says, "You're not gonna like it, but no. I mean, I can but I'm not going to. Much as it sucks, I think you need to feel all this heartbreak."
"Witch," I mumble with no real malice .
"I'm sorry, I know it sucks. But I think it's best."
Fucking sisters. Always thinking they know better.