Chapter 10 #3
Mindful of David’s warning, I don’t ask for more.
He and I had a long chat about this when we first realized the magic was able to act as a painkiller.
Our consensus was that I would be manipulating the magic at a low level, so it would be slowly wearing me out.
Like a dripping tap. A couple of drops is nothing, but when it’s dripping twenty-four seven, every day of the year, it adds up to a lot of wasted water and huge-ass water bill.
Since I’m paying said bill with my own energy reserves, I don’t want to be careless.
Plus, like any painkiller, the magic is just masking the symptoms. I don’t want to ignore the message my body is sending me, which seems to be that I fucked up but good.
Slowly, I ease my eyes open. The room is bright, and I squint for a second. Andrew must have opened the curtains.
“You’re awake,” he gasps with a certain amount of relief, collapsing onto the bed beside me. I wince as I’m jostled slightly.
“Awake,” I croak. “What happened?”
“In a minute,” David says. He holds a penlight—did he bring that with him? Man, he’s a dork—in front of my eyes, temporarily blinding me. “Pupils are reactive,” he affirms with satisfaction.
“You couldn’t tell that from the way I was squinting when I opened my eyes?” I gripe. “Help me sit up.”
“Wait,” Andrew insists, picking up my arm with nowhere near the care and tenderness my poor abused muscles need and pressing his fingers to my pulse… again.
“What’s the date, Noah?” David asks in what I think is supposed to be a casual tone but misses the mark.
But he’s trying to make sure I’m okay, and I don’t think he’ll let me sit up if I don’t answer, so I tell him.
Then he makes me tell him some other stupid stuff and recite the alphabet.
Meanwhile, Andrew is taking about thirty times longer than he really needs to check my pulse, and I am this close to dealing with magical burnout or whatever and walloping them both with a couple of metaphysical bats.
“Okay,” David concedes finally. “You can sit up—but slowly. Let us help you.” Together, they ease me to a sitting position, propping me against the pillows.
Gotta admit, I’m grateful for the support.
Even with most of the pain dulled, I feel tender and completely wiped out.
Andrew holds a glass of water up to my mouth, and I sip gratefully.
“So what happened?” I ask again as the magic curls around me.
Andrew and David exchange a glance. “We’re not entirely sure,” David admits. “What do you remember?”
I pick through my memories. “I was trying to bring the key bowl here without seeing it,” I recall. “But then I accidentally knocked over Andrew’s ugly statue and he wouldn’t stop whining about it—”
“It is not ugly!”
“The Persian piece you keep by the front door?” David asks. “I told you that should be in a cabinet.” He turns back to me. “It’s not my favorite, either.”
“See?” I sneer at Andrew. “David thinks it’s ugly too.”
“You’d better hope an expert agrees that it’s not damaged,” Andrew warns, “or you’re going to be paying penance for a very long time.”
I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think of that, but David, eternally the peacemaker, intervenes.
“We’re getting off topic. What else do you remember, Noah?”
I think about it. “That’s pretty much it. Andrew was distracting me, and I was finding it tough to stay focused on the bowl. And then I passed out.”
They exchange glances again.
“What?”
David gestures to the nightstand, and I turn my head carefully to see the key bowl sitting there—with the keys still in it. I frown.
“Did you bring it in here? Because I’m sure it was still in the living room when I passed out.”
“Actually,” Andrew says gently, taking my hand, “it was in here when you passed out. But it didn’t come in through the door.”
I must look as confused as I feel, because David explains, “Andrew thinks you teleported it.”
“ What? ” I surge upright and instantly regret it. “Ow, ow ow ow.”
Andrew eases me back against the pillows, and David mutters something about painkillers and disappears into the en suite bathroom. He comes back a minute later with ibuprofen.
Once I’ve swallowed a couple and am settled into the least painful position, I demand, “Teleported?”
David shrugs. “I wasn’t here,” he reminds me.
“Yes, teleported,” Andrew insists. “It wasn’t here, then suddenly it’s in your lap and you’re flopping over like a dead fish.”
A dead fish. Wow. I always wished the man I just had a night of marathon sex with would compare me to a dead fish.
Although right now, my dick feels like a dead fish. I don’t think it ever wants to have sex again, and that makes part of me sad. The rest of me just hurts and thinks sex would only be okay if I didn’t have to move.
“Is teleportation even possible for non-demons?” I’m fully expecting the answer to be no. There has to be some other explanation, right? Maybe I just moved the bowl super fast, faster than the eye could see, and the effort drained me.
David hesitates.
“Oh my god !”
“She doesn’t care,” Andrew says absently, staring at David. “Wait, it’s possible?”
“Well… it’s never been proven to be impossible. I’ve never heard of anyone doing it, though, and it’s the kind of thing that would get around.”
By “anyone,” he means any sorcerers. They’d be the ones most likely to achieve something like this. The other species just don’t have those kinds of abilities—except demons, who can teleport already, but only themselves and things they’re touching.
A human teleporting an object from another room? I would have noticed that in my research. And David’s right. If any sorcerer managed it, they’d be shouting about it from the rooftops.
“What does this mean?” Fuck, this is wild. I want to try again, but honestly, I don’t think I could even manifest a lightball right now. And even if I could, my protesting body wouldn’t allow me to.
“I don’t know. More research for both of us, definitely.” David sounds almost dispirited. I can guess why.
“I could try doing it again—not today,” I tack on quickly as every atom of my being cries out in protest. “But when I’m feeling better.
And if it’s more controlled this time, it might not affect me the same way.
Plus, my blood sugar would have been low this morning—we didn’t even have dinner last night.
Maybe next time it won’t be like this at all. ”
David looks about as doubtful as I feel, and Andrew’s shaking his head adamantly.
“No. It’s not worth the risk, Noah. Not until we know more. Stick to the research for now.”
I ease myself a little more upright so he knows I’m serious. Ideally, I’d like to jab a finger in his direction for emphasis, but that kind of sharp movement might be pushing my luck. “This is groundbreaking, Andrew. It could change everything.”
“Like?” he challenges. “You’re the only person we know who’s able to do human magic at this level, Noah.
It might possibly end up meaning that you won’t have to walk back out to the living room when you forget your phone, or, if you’re really lucky, that your commute to work gets really short.
But given the amount of effort it took to teleport a small bowl thirty feet, I don’t think it’s likely you’ll be doing that anytime soon. ”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand.
“Think about it. It’s been literally only weeks since you started using magic.
You’ve been progressing by leaps and bounds, but your ‘magic muscles’ are still developing.
You need to take this slow and steady and make sure you have a solid foundation before you take risky leaps. Back me up here, David.”
David sighs. “Sorry, Noah. As much as I’d love to explore this new skill, Andrew’s right.
We’d never let a young sorcerer leap ahead in their studies like that.
And I know the demons are very careful about ensuring all sensory abilities are strong before they allow their young to even consider teleporting. It’s just so risky.”
I hate that they’re right.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll work on building the other skills first.”
“Like telekinetically manipulating items you can’t see,” Andrew reminds me. “That was the thing you were excited about before.”
Fuck, yeah! I forgot about that in all the teleportation excitement. That’s super freaking awesome!
“But not today,” David orders. “Wait until all the pain is gone. Did you say you didn’t eat dinner last night?”
Oops. “Uh…” I shoot a glance at Andrew, who’s looking at the ceiling with a little smile playing over his mouth.
“Is this where I’m not supposed to notice that you’re naked in Andrew’s bed?” David asks, amusement rife in his voice.
“Am I?” I fake amazement. “Wow, that teleportation thing is even more complicated than we thought! It moved me from my room and stole my clothes.”
Laughing, he gets up and backs toward the door. “I’ll raid the kitchen and find you something to eat, and then call in and let Percy know we’re not going in today.”
I blink. “We’re not? I mean, I know I’m not”—no way in hell am I getting out of this bed until the muscle aches fade—“but why aren’t you two?”
“We’re keeping an eye on you,” Andrew says with heavy-handed patience. “Someone has to make sure there aren’t any more side effects.”
“And that takes two of you?” I plan to sleep most of the day away. It doesn’t take two people to keep an eye on a sleeping man.
“Well, David’s the magic expert, and this is my house, so…” Andrew shrugs as though that makes any kind of sense whatsoever, then turns a dark scowl on David. “And speaking of my house—”
“Relax.” David rolls his eyes. “I promise to leave your kitchen exactly as I find it. I’ll even make breakfast for you too.” He disappears into the hallway, leaving me and Andrew alone.