Chapter Nineteen
Chapter 19
“W ill your boyfriend do it?”
Vika, the light witch who was currently mixing drinks for what had become a party of many, gave Valor a curious wink. She’d asked if Kelyn would donate a bit of faery dust for the drinks. Because with a little magic and dust she could make an out-of-this-world drink.
“Faery dust will get you high, but you won’t have a hangover,” she added. “I’ve only had it once before. CJ would love it.”
“He will if I ask him sweetly,” Valor said, because this was a fun challenge. And while she wasn’t into recreational drugs, what could a little faery dust hurt anyone? Wasn’t as if she were a vampire who could become addicted to the stuff. “What do you have in those drinks?”
The mason jars Vika used for drinking glasses sparkled under the many chandeliers lined above the kitchen area of the vast loft. The whole place was open with only a few walls for semiprivacy, such as the ones sectioning off the bedrooms and the one backing up Vika and CJ’s spell area. The twins had been tucked away in their cribs before Valor and Kelyn arrived, and Vika had checked on them briefly before gathering the drink supplies.
A boisterous redhead laughed over near the gray sofa where she and her boyfriend, a former angel/soul bringer, stood chatting with Kelyn. She was Vika’s sister, Libby, and her boyfriend was Reichardt. They had stopped in on the way home from a day at the park, and when they saw the party starting they had jumped right in. Valor secretly wondered if Reichardt could still produce angel dust. She was running low on that particular ingredient, thanks to her failed attempt at—argh. No, she wasn’t going to land on that depressing thought. Her love life was actually looking up. Dwelling on her flaws would never move her forward. Onward!
“Cherry juice, vodka, cardamom and salt,” Vika said as she mixed a shaker full of said ingredients. “Ice, of course, and a touch of dragon’s blood.”
“For a fiery taste,” Valor added.
“You know it. And now we need the secret ingredient.” The witch glanced through elegant kohl-lined green eyes over to Kelyn, who was laughing along with the others over Libby’s gyrations that detailed trying to actually fly a broomstick.
CJ’s brother, Thoroughly Jones—also called TJ—had arrived with his wife, Star, a cat shifter. The man was CJ’s twin, and together they put out some awesomely dark, sexy vibes that Valor hadn’t realized could attract her until she saw them in double. What had become of her preference for the big, beefy bad boys? The dark witches were bad personified. Some Lynyrd Skynyrd blasted, and one of the twin witches was currently drawing a chalk circle on the floor while explaining to the menfolk how to catch a war demon in three easy steps.
“Kelyn!” Valor gestured for him to come over. Nursing the whiskey CJ had poured him, he wandered toward them, barefoot. When had the man abandoned his footwear? Actually, all the men, save Reichardt, were barefoot.
She made a show of glancing at his feet, and Kelyn shrugged and offered, “The floor is heated. Can you feel it? It’s awesome.” He kissed her on the cheek. “What’s up? You ladies making drinks?”
Valor glided her palm up his chest and kissed him. “We are, and I have a big favor to ask. Sort of a fun one, actually.”
“Anything for you, lover.”
Valor tapped his chest and worked her best pouty lips with lash flutter on him. She’d once practiced before a mirror.
“You got something stuck in your eye?” he asked with concern.
“Seriously? I work my one and only sexy move on you and you think I’ve got a condition?”
He laughed. “Just teasing. What’s up?”
“Could we borrow a sprinkle of your dust? Vika says when added to the drinks it’ll get us high.”
“Is that so? And what about the faery in the room who doesn’t want to drink his own dust?”
“I have an angel dust elixir for you,” Vika said, pointing to the vial of iridescent liquid that sat next to a canning jar half-filled with a green drink.
“Angel dust, eh?” Kelyn shrugged. “I’ve never been much for alcohol.” He waggled the whiskey glass that could only be minus a few sips. “But I’ve been doing a lot of new things lately. I’m intrigued. I’m in!” With a snap of his fingers, his dust sprinkled over the jars that Vika had been mixing, settling onto the surface with a glint.
Vika met Valor’s wink with her own. “Dust Bombs for all!”
An hour later everyone was dancing around the chalk circle drawn on the hardwood, in which stood a war demon, who also nursed one of the Dust Bombs. Built like a block with obscene muscles, the visitor from Daemonia had black skin with a distinctive sheen. His horns glowed crimson, and he couldn’t stop giggling.
TJ was currently arm wrestling with Kelyn, and Kelyn was holding his own simply because the dark witch, who had removed his shirt to expose tight muscles, was so high on the Dust Bombs he could barely see straight.
Libby was dancing with Valor, and every time she hip bumped her, Valor went flying into Star’s arms. The women laughed and Valor’s snorts always brought up Kelyn’s head in search of her. The room sparkled with dust, and yet Kelyn hadn’t imbibed any more of the whiskey. Vika had made him something special that contained pomegranate seeds and angel dust. His grin had grown unstoppable.
Certainly and Vika danced slowly before a window, and every so often he’d spin her and he’d put up his arms and shout, “Witch of My Heart!” Apparently the man had a thing for bestowing titles of affection upon his lover.
The arm wrestling match suddenly ended in a tie and the war demon challenged Kelyn with drunken taunts. “Come on, step inside the circle, my faery boy!”
As Kelyn wobbled toward the circle, CJ made a quick detour and shoved the faery away. Kelyn landed on the sofa, sprawled, his grin growing crooked. “Careful, faery. He’ll take you to Daemonia.”
“You’re no fun!” The war demon pouted, then tilted back his jar, which was empty. He lashed out a long black tongue, mining the bottom of the glass, but couldn’t get any more out. “Aggh! I want me some more faery dust!”
At that outburst, Kelyn shuddered and called out, “Leave the faery alone!” which then segued into drunken laughter.
This time a hip bump set Valor on a trajectory toward the sofa. Kelyn saw her coming and held out his arms to catch her—but she missed and landed on the opposite end. The faery hugged his empty arms across his chest. And Valor snorted out peals of laughter.
“I’d come after you and kiss you,” Kelyn managed, “but I can’t even see straight!”
“Ha!” Valor rolled off the couch and landed hard on the floor. Turning onto her back and gazing up into the constellation of chandeliers that blurred and turned into a massive cloud of muted light because of her inebriation, she decided that the witches in Paris knew how to party. Big time.
The music switched to something sensual, and CJ called out, “Lover, oh, Mistress of the Faery Dust Bomb!”
Vika popped her head up from the kitchen fridge, where she’d been looking for more ice. A snap of her fingers spun a flame into the air and it floated toward CJ, who caught the amber ball on his palm and then, with a sip from his glass, blew the alcohol through the flame, creating a magnificent burst of blue sparkly flames that alighted into the air.
“Don’t burn the place down!” Vika called. “I don’t have enough ice for that!”
Kelyn reached out to catch a falling blue flame, and as it lit onto his fingers it alchemized into liquid and glided along his skin, finding the silvery scars at his wrist and, for a moment, lighting up the sigils that had once been there. “Sweet. Whoever said dark witches were evil?”
Meow!
Valor lifted her head from the floor and spied the black cat with the white star on her chest chase the blue flames rolling across the floor as if they were marbles.
“CJ,” Vika called admonishingly. She tried to look stern, but she wobbled drunkenly, too.
CJ called out a Latin word and all the flames fizzled.
“Aww...” The war demon pouted. “They were so pretty.”
“Who’s up for naked limbo?” someone shouted.
* * *
The airplane hadn’t even left the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle, but both Kelyn and Valor sat in first class with heads bowed toward each other, snoring. Still on a high from the Dust Bombs, Valor had glided onto the plane, arms held out and making noises like a kid would were she playing at flying. She’d been hyped with exhilaration and when Kelyn had followed with a staggering gait—yet he’d managed a perfectly sober stride through customs—she hadn’t felt an ounce of the usual nervous anxiety.
Once seated in the confining tin can, Valor had yawned and whispered a spell for sleep. It might have been the faery dust coursing through her system, or it could have been a lucky magical moment, but the spell actually worked.
It had been a long adventure, and but one ingredient remained. And then to Faery.
* * *
Nine hours later, Kelyn sat in the back of a cab with Valor, cruising from the Minneapolis airport to the northern suburb of Tangle Lake. Both were still a little drowsy, but whether it was jet lag or dust lag they couldn’t be sure. They didn’t need to talk now. Holding hands? That was some kind of awesome.
They’d come down from the high and he was thinking he should have gotten a drink recipe from Vika. Angel dust? That had been some good shit. He’d seen in a range of colors he’d not even imagined before. And while his senses had seemed to increase to what they had once been, it had all been a crazy rushed blur of dancing, laughing, avoiding the war demon’s challenging taunts, chandeliers—and, yes, naked limbo.
Chandeliers? He still didn’t get it, but he didn’t care. They’d had a great night to say goodbye to Paris.
Now he could feel Valor’s energy flowing into him and it didn’t so much invigorate him as exude through his body with a reassurance that she was the right woman for him. He’d not felt this way with a person before. So trusting. Completely at ease. Relaxed.
Was he too relaxed? Should he be more cautious of her magic and the forthcoming spell? A spell that could change his life. Would she perform the spell right? What if it failed? He needed to get to Faery and find his wings.
But even more? He wanted to finally set foot in Faery. It was a home that had always called to him, a place where he belonged. Growing up, he’d felt as if he lived in the wrong world. Sure, his family and home felt right. And the forest surrounding his home, along with the Darkwood, were what he imagined freedom must feel like. But they could never be Faery. Right?
So when finally he did make it to Faery, and found his wings, would he then be able to turn away from all that it offered and return to the mortal realm?
Why would any man do such a thing if given the opportunity to stay?
* * *
Kelyn walked Valor up to her building door, but she noted he’d told the cab to wait for him. Back here in the United States it was midafternoon, and she was no longer tired or high, though she couldn’t promise her aching bones she wouldn’t crash the minute she saw the bed. Travel had whipped her good. And even though Vika had said there’d be no hangover from the Dust Bombs, she wasn’t so sure the throbbing in her temple wasn’t just that.
Yeah, a few winks of rest felt necessary. But she wanted to crash with Kelyn by her side. Didn’t he want to come in and stay with her? They could make love until they fell asleep together from jet lag and adventure withdrawal.
She opened the door to the building, and Kelyn put a palm up on the door frame and leaned in to kiss her. She grasped at his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his body heat against her breasts, wanting to jump inside him. To make him stay. He couldn’t leave her now.
How could he leave?
“I’ve got some things to check on,” he said as he broke the kiss. “Call you soon?”
“Sure. Uh...”
He lifted a brow, waiting for her to say something.
“It’s good,” she decided. “Right. Uh, back to business. I’ll talk to you soon and we’ll make plans for stage two of the operation.”
“Awesome.” He kissed her again. It was too quick. Not even long enough for her to kiss him back. “Thank you, Valor. This adventure has meant a lot to me.” He clasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. And with a squeeze of her hand, he strode down the sidewalk to the waiting cab.
As if he’d said goodbye for the last time.
Fingers clutching at the door pull, Valor stood in the doorway, watching the cab drive off down the street until it turned the corner at the end of the block.
Gone without a care? Her heart pulsed. It felt as if she’d received a blow to all the feels. She gasped as sudden tears spilled from her eyes.
She missed the man already. And it felt as though he’d taken a piece of her heart along with him. He hadn’t looked at her as the cab rolled away. Not even a goodbye wave.
Why hadn’t he looked at her?
Touching the tears on her cheeks, Valor had a sudden, devastating realization.
“Seriously? Oh, my goddess! By all the television doctors!”
She slammed the door shut and dashed up three flights. Once inside her loft, she aimed for her spell room and found an empty vial.