Chapter 16
sixteen
Magic Senses and Lascivious Texts
The first breath of warm air seems to bring all the water of Lake Superior with it into town, leaving a dense fog hanging in the streets this morning. I pull my blanket around my shoulders tighter as I stare into the white nothingness.
I wish it would swell into the house and swallow me up. Take away this emptiness that I feel. Banish the apathy for my own existence. The indifference of cost or consequence.
My eyes lose focus as I fantasize the end of it all. A great white wall rising from the lakes, the seas, and every ocean. It blankets the world, silencing it. No more violence. No more fear. Just the stillness of absolute solitude. The reprieve of agony.
How I wish for it.
“You’re like a void,” Bastian says. “Is something wrong?”
Yes.
My brain chemistry is being an absolute cunt.
I take a deep breath and shake my head. “No, but it could be, you know? Like what if some monster is lurking out there in the mist. It crawled up out of the lake and it’s gulping down passersby in the cover of the fog.”
Images of a tentacled monster schlerping out of the lake is much better than the silent whiteout of existence. Imagining the violence brings a tingle of feeling back into my body. Revulsion. I wouldn’t wish a monster on anyone.
“It’s my understanding that there are very few beings capable of eating humans whole, and though some do live in water, none live in that lake,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah? How do you know that?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at him.
He crosses his arms at the challenge and his biceps bulge under his black t-shirt. “I would sense a creature of that size.”
I scowl. “Is that a real thing?”
“Of course, I’m a dragon.”
“And I’m a witch, apparently, but it doesn’t mean I know anything,” I say. “Speaking of, do you know what my magic is?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Now you don’t question my knowledge?”
Gonna be difficult with me.
“Fine.”
I turn back to the window and watch the curls of white caress the edges of my sanctuary. If I just stare out the window, I don’t have to look at my to-do list and if I don’t look at the list, I don’t have to start doing.
Suddenly, I sense Bastian is right behind me. The heat radiating off his chest smooths over the back of my neck and trickles down my spine through the blanket.
“I do not see the world like you. I do not see much light, but I can sense magic. I watched your aura glow as you crafted the book yesterday. You were feeding your magic—though I still don’t know what form it takes.”
I turn to face him. “Binding the book fed my magic?”
“Just as these books feed mine,” he says, gesturing to the stacks. “I’ve consumed most of the stories, so their bolstering properties will fade to sustaining soon.”
I squint. “What do you mean consumed?”
“I’ve pulled out their content and experienced it.”
My eyes dart to the stacks. Several spicy spines stick out right away, and my cheeks heat.
“Experienced it?”
He tilts his head and a knowing smile tugs on his lips. “When I’m meditating, as you say, I’m watching the content of the story in my mind’s eye.”
Oh my god…
Bastian grins. “I’ve read about intercourse before, but your books paint it in wildly descriptive ways.”
“Forget that I asked,” I say, whirling back to face the window.
“Such lascivious descriptions.”
He steps directly behind me, caging me against the glass. I put my hand on the pane to steady myself, to fight off the heat building in my body.
“Obscene and gratifying all in one,” he says with a rumble, tugging on one of my curls.
A shiver creeps across my scalp and down my neck, but I stop it from going any further.
“Yes, well, a woman needs something to warm her bed.”
“Then, you’ve never partaken of carnal pleasures?” he asks.
“Of course I have,” I say, glaring over my shoulder, but that was a mistake.
He’s holding one of my curls close to his lips, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. The sight of it is enough to make my heart drop through my stomach. My knees tremble and I steady myself against the window.
“Have you?”
The question slips out of me unbidden, and I chastise myself with a quick mental whipping.
“I’ve lain with few maidens throughout my life, but never…”
His eyes dart away from my face and he blinks.
“Never?”
“I was aware of the consequences of copulation through my reading, and so my experience is not as diverse as your books.”
He’s still a virgin?
That doesn’t matter, and it’s not my business. My business is this bookshop, and what am I doing just standing here instead of working!
I sidestep to get out of his gravity and my hair slips through his fingers.
“I really need to start, you know, doing something reproductive—productive, just productive,” I say, flustering through the weird slip.
There’s a curious expression wrinkling his brow, like he’s not sure what just happened.
“Anyway, if you want to be useful you could do something,” I say.
“Like?” he asks.
Oh jeez, what could he do?
I look at the finished book sitting on the kitchen island next to the spell book I want to explore, then down to Oscar’s food bowl, and the half-blown-up mattress. None of these things are giving me any clarity.
“I, uh…”
Where’s my phone? I need my list.
“I could handle the dust mites,” he suggests.
“Yes! Perfect, that, please,” I say, hunting for my phone between the sheets of the deflated mattress.
There it is!
“Thank god,” I sigh with relief as I clutch the device to my chest.
Bastian quirks an eyebrow at me and turns away. “I’ll be in the bedroom, banishing magical creatures if you need me.”
“Sure thing, thank you Basty Boy,” I say.
He only grumbles in response.
I unlock my phone to see there’s a text from earlier this morning.
Renee: Hey Chicka! Saw you walking Main with some hunk…you didn’t tell me you came with a man! We’ll have to do a double date one of these nights, my hubs has been dying to talk to another gym rat.
Cait: Haha, yeah, he’s a real hunk, but just my friend.
I pause on the keys. How do I explain that just a friend is living with me, and has made a summoning circle out of my books in my apartment?
I can’t. I have no good excuse. But I definitely can’t tell her the truth.
Shoot.
Deflect…
I delete everything and start again.
Cait: Hey! Yeah we went to the Chubby Radish (so good!) since my kitchen is still a work in progress. Speaking of, know anywhere I can get some discount appliances that aren’t from the stone age?
Good enough.
I pan over to my to-do list and smile at how many things have been checked off. I keep them in there for a week just to see the progress, and this week has been pretty good, despite my mood and impending blood-fest.
I scroll down to the first unchecked item and grimace.
Accessible Ramp.
Shit.
I have no way of making this, and I haven’t done any research on contractors in the area.
My heart sinks as the feeling of being behind slaps me in the face.
No matter how many times I look at the checked boxes above, I can’t convince myself I’m doing enough.
I know it’s just Jerry. God, when will he go away!
A reply comes in from Renee.
Renee: I know a few places! What you up to today?
Fortuitous.
Cait: Other than needing a working stove and fridge, I’ve gotta figure out how to build a wheelchair accessible ramp to the second floor…
Renee: OOOOOOH that sounds like fun! Need help?
Cait: A thousand times yes. I’ve listened to so many DIY podcasts, but one can only get so far with listening.
Renee: I’ll be over in a flash with my stuff!
My shoulders relax a little and I let out a breath. Thank goodness I was able to make a friend. I ought to do something special for her…like figure out her favorite book and do a bind!
I do all the morning things I hadn’t done yet and get dressed for hard labor in dark jeans with a tattered sweater. Bastian is scooping up handfuls of mites and clapping them out of existence when I walk by the bedroom.
“Renee is coming over to help with some construction planning,” I say. “She’s nice, so don’t be a jerk, and also she saw us walking together to the restaurant a few days ago, so you need to look human when she gets here.”
And he’s going to be wearing the same clothes…
“Another pink flesh,” he groans, then starts going off in a language I don’t know.
I open my Purchazon app to buy a few more shirts and different sweatpants for him as he rambles.
“Seriously, she’s my only friend in this place.” I point at him. “Don’t. Be. A dick.”
“Not your only friend,” he replies.
I hum. “You’re right. I have Oscar.”
He frowns at me, borderline pouting, and it’s genuine. He looks undeniably hot and adorable. A week together has smoothed out his jagged edges, though he’s still a scamp and a tease. But I do feel an attachment for him that I didn’t expect. Friend. Hot friend. But yeah, I think maybe he is.
“Fine,” I sigh at him dramatically and smile. “A dragon friend, too. Now, put on your human skin so you can fool the other pink flesh.”