Chapter 41
magicky
The invitations said ten o’clock, but the next morning, Jess was twitching so badly that Callie forced her to get dressed early and marched her out to the garage.
“Are you calm enough to drive?” she asked. “I swear you were slicing me up in ribbons in your sleep.”
“That’s not at all true,” Jess said, “but if Isabel has gone to such lengths to outfit us…” Jess snickered, teasing Callie, “But Jess, it’s magicky. You’re lucky I didn’t jump you on the spot. God, you’re cute.”
“Well,” Callie laughed, “Just for that, you get to go first.”
The Ardent Hotel’s penthouse was more like a cathedral than a suite. Vaulted ceilings, silver-threaded wallpaper, and floor-to-ceiling windows allowed sunlight to pour in.
Isabel was already there, having bribed someone, or spelled them, likely both. As Callie and Jess walked in, Isabel offered each a chilled flute of the promised mimosas. A sprig of lavender garnished each glass, and while Callie marveled at the color, Isabel laughed it off. “Just a little something for fun.”
She caught Jess’s eye, then pointed to a matte-black carbon-fiber case on the king-size bed. Isabel held up her thumb and pointed to a circle on one of the reinforced titanium corners.
“My thumb goes here. Your thumb goes there.”
Jess watched as Isabel placed her thumb on the left corner of the case and held it still. Jess followed suit, and after a moment—when both women had contact with the case—Isabel withdrew her thumb.
“It’s yours now,” she said. “I hope you like it.”
As Jess flipped the two latches and slowly opened the case to reveal its contents, her jaw dropped wider than the lid.
Callie tipped her glass to Isabel. “Horny for steel,” she grinned. “Who knew?”
Taking a long wardrobe bag from a hanger, Isabel laid it on the bed. “Built for speed and stealth, Jess. Not unlike yourself.”
Callie swallowed a contradictory comment as Jess took out the all-black ensemble.
“I used the legend,” Isabel offered as Jess held up part of her gear, “and stories from your past escapades as a theme. Try it on.”
Jess was already moving. Her sweatshirt came over her head, and her sweatpants fell to the floor.
“Um. Okay,” Isabel cleared her throat.
Her eyes flicked—then lingered—on Jess’s low-cut sports bra and second-skin Lycra shorts.
“Try exercising next to that for a few months,” Callie joked. “Brings all new meaning to the phrase pent-up planks.”
“Only because you insisted on spotting me during hip thrusts,” Jess shot back, then grinned. “I can’t help that they ride up with each rep.” She looked at Isabel like they were getting dressed in a locker room. “It’s not like it sculpts individual folds, okay?”
“Kinda does,” Callie shrugged, then shook her head. “My point is, getting sweat on from her is like assault, with cheekbones.”
Isabel’s mouth opened like she had a comment ready, then she thought better of it. Her gaze snapped away—too quick, too practiced—like she’d just remembered she was supposed to be immune to beautiful women and bad decisions. She set her mimosa down with a little more force than necessary and pretended the glass was fascinating.
On the hanger, Jess’s outfit looked…dark, but once on her, it was pure violence, dressed in style. Tailored combat trousers with built-in knee and shin guards, a chest-hugging tunic with wide arm openings for easy movement.
Jess rolled her shoulders once, then dropped into a full crouch—one leg out, the other tucked under her butt—ready to spring back up.
Her speed made Isabel jump back, but it was the sound she noticed.
There wasn’t any.
No knee cracking or groaning as Jess had dropped. Only the soft rustle of her pants as she rose straight up, and then as her hair settled on her shoulders.
Isabel made a sound, then downed a mimosa in one gulp.
“I might add a long-sleeve tee to keep my arms hidden,” Jess grinned. “I like it. I can move.”
“Obviously,” Isabel murmured, then set another package on the bed for Jess. “Something else. I’m told you were fond of these.”
As Jess picked up the package, a corner of the wrapping gave way, and the garment began to tumble from the container like liquid silk. Callie gasped as a smile blossomed across her face.
“That is perfect,” she gushed. “I want one too.”
Isabel shared a quick wink with Jess.
Jess caught the cascading fabric, then finished opening the wrapping. She found a simple black crescent clasp at the base of the hood.
Callie was trembling. “Try it on,” she pleaded. “It’s going to be so epic.”
“It’s enchanted,” Isabel managed, also anticipating how it might look on Jess’s taut, muscular frame. “It will move with you—anticipate if you throw your arms out.”
Jess followed Isabel’s lead. She turned and rifled her arm, fingers flexing as if throwing a blade. The draped fabric billowed, moving just ahead of her momentum. Pulling her arm to her chest, the silk shroud followed and wrapped her in a black cocoon.
Jess pulled an arm free, flipped up the hood, and all but disappeared.
“Mmmm,” Callie moaned, her lower lip in her teeth. “My Raven has arrived.”
Jess shot an uncharacteristic grin at Callie. “I need my black boots.” She shifted her hips. “Might have to change up the shorts. It’s binding a little.”
Isabel did her best to ignore Jess’s comment, only to nod. “You can modify all you want.” She handed Jess another box. “This will round out your ensemble.”
Where Callie’s eyes went wide, Jess’s narrowed to slits as she studied the black leather harness.
“You can adjust the strap,” Isabel offered, “to keep your dominant shoulder free.” She directed her hand diagonally across Jess’s chest, ending up at her left breast. “It should tuck under…uh, yeah, that one, unless you’re going to bind your chest.”
“No,” Jess said, adjusting the fit. The contour shifted as she brought the central part across her chest. “I can get another strap to keep it from moving. Something around my waist.”
Callie cleared her throat. “I…may have something,” she said softly, shyly raising her hand, “although I think there’s a…shop…nearby with something similar.”
Jess didn’t seem to understand, and Callie was trying to spare Isabel. She raised her brow. “Janice may have mentioned something during one of our conversations?”
Jess’s lips twitched, thinking, then—“a grey flannel conversation?” she asked, her ears instantly pinking up.
“Cool,” Jess blurted. “Your turn.”
Callie approached the second garment bag as if it might have vanished before she got to see inside. The moment the lavender fabric spilled into view, she gasped.
She had seen the cloak in her dreams. Just out of focus, the color had often shimmered to the point she had dismissed it as cosmic interference.
But this time, the image didn’t blur.
The lavender-silver fabric caught in the light, and something cold slid through her chest—the remembered vision of Jess on her knees, hands slick with blood, a body on the ground wrapped in grey.
For a split second, the weight of it pressed in.
Not fear.
Recognition.
This could be me.
Callie’s fingers tightened in the cloth. She didn’t pull away. She breathed. Once. Then again.
No spiraling. No retreat.
She had learned the difference now—between a warning and a sentence.
Whatever that vision had been, it wasn’t a command.
It was a crossroads.
And she was no longer standing still.
As the smooth fabric was grasped, the color shifted. Out of the bag, the weave looked like dusty charcoal, but as it moved and turned, a silver seam would appear, and that section of the fabric would glow in soft lilac and then intensify, adding a shade of blue.
“Put it on, love,” Isabel suggested. “The colors will settle once the cloak takes on your essence.”
She glanced at Jess to see her transfixed before Callie even had it around her shoulders. The cloak hung to the floor, and Callie was engulfed in color.
“Oh,” Jess gasped. “Put up the hood.” She held her hands to her face. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
As Callie brought up the hood, the color shifted again, and Jess started to cry.
“It’s you…” she sobbed. “You won’t remember, but it was my first time.” She sniffed, helpless. “The first time you read to me.”
But Callie had remembered.
“My cosplay wig,” she whispered. “The not-quite-purple one. That’s the color you see?”
Standing there, decked out in her all-black ninja assassin outfit, Jess was blubbering, and Isabel couldn’t process the sight. She blinked, dumbfounded at Callie.
“You made the Raven cry.”
Jess kept pointing like she was trying to hold the moment in place with her fingertips. “You’re so pretty.”
“Jess,” Isabel barked, “get a grip.”
“Well, she is,” Jess shot back, swiping at her face. “C’mon.”
“Alright,” Isabel said, trying to rein in some level of control. “Let’s calm ourselves.”
Callie didn’t move right away. Not because she was frozen—because she was listening. Not to them. To something under the room. Under the building. A low current that had nothing to do with the windows or the city.
The air thickened. Not ominous. Just…aware.
Then it happened.
Callie’s staff manifested.
Not summoned.
Recognized.
A low harmonic hum threaded through the penthouse—Zimmer-esque, not loud, felt more than heard. The kind of sound that doesn’t ask permission. It simply tells your bones what’s true.
Light spiraled once around Callie’s hand—contained, disciplined—then collapsed inward like a breath being held on purpose. The staff settled into her palm with a small, definitive weight, like it had always been there, and everyone else was only now catching up.
Jess went still. Tears dried mid-fall. Her mouth opened, then shut.
Callie looked down at the wooden staff as if she were meeting someone familiar in a crowd.
“Hi,” she whispered, and it was ridiculous and reverent at the same time.
Isabel watched in silence.
Something private crossed her face. Not fear. Not jealousy. Recognition. Like she was seeing the shape of the future and realizing there wasn’t a way around it—only through it. She turned away for a beat, one hand braced on the dresser. Breathed. Collected herself.
“Yeah,” Isabel said quietly, already moving toward the door. “I’m gonna head out.”
It wasn’t that they were ignoring her.
They were simply…elsewhere.
Callie kissed Jess, then turned to Isabel.
“Thank you,” she said. “We needed this. See you in a few hours.”