5. Chapter 5
“ P ull into the shop,” Neil ordered as they neared the repair shop. “I’ll take better care of her than you will.”
“You just want to play with her,” Zephyr grumbled, but she drove into the open garage and parked. Dale finally emerged from Neil’s pocket, flying up into the rafters to escape the odd tension between the two witches.
“Keys,” Neil said as he held out a hand. Zephyr tossed her car keys over a little faster than necessary. He added, “I’ll look her over, do an oil change, but nothing invasive.”
“How do you know I need an oil change?”
“When was the last time you—”
She surrendered. “Okay, okay. But I’d better get a discount.”
“No discounts for the woman who bragged about her bank account to me just a few days ago.”
That was fair.
As Neil pressed a button on the wall, forcing the garage door back down, Zephyr called for her familiar. What a mess of a day. Neil was hardly any less stoic than usual, and she wasn’t any less frustrated.
“Dale! Get down here!” The cardinal ignored her, too busy snooping through other birds’ nests up in the rafters.
Zephyr’s nose twitched. A deep voice, too familiar, caught her attention. The announcer growled into a microphone, “ —and newcomer Zephyr McAllister has taken the lead, despite her setback in that last turn— ”
“What the hell is that?” Zephyr scanned the garage. She momentarily left Dale to his own devices—always a bad idea. The source turned out to be a small television in a corner of the garage. It played an old race of hers—one that had occurred during her rookie year. She winced in anticipation.
Neil appeared next to her. He coughed once and explained, “It might seem otherwise, but I’m not the only guy who works here. The others put this sort of thing on all the time.”
Greens and blues and a snow-white peak in the distance filled the screen.
Zephyr appeared, a blur of red and long blonde hair, racing over the tops of a pine forest. A flock of camera-bearing familiars flew after her, capturing her every move.
A man caught up to her, and he attempted to knock her off her broom. It was a shitty move, but legal.
Zephyr watched her old self roll out of the way, a camera catching a close-up of her expression as she stuck out her tongue and flipped herself right side up. She flew on to win the race—ten seconds ahead of second place.
Gods, she used to be so fearless.
“You’re a master,” Neil said quietly, watching the screen with more attention than she would have expected.
She shrugged. “You might want to use the past tense there.”
The screen flashed from the finish line to the pit, where a reporter caught Zephyr for an interview. She grinned wildly into the camera, breathless, and yet , she did not stop talking .
The reporter had yet to ask a single question as Zephyr blabbered, “I mean, it’s no surprise I won today.
And last week. And the two weeks before that.
I’m racing against boys here, not men . Except you, Gina.
I fucking love Gina.” She pointed a finger like a gun into the camera.
“I’m talking about Jaxon fucking Wendt. Tried to knock me off my broom, again , but I’m just too fucking good. ”
A grating bleep overpowered her every curse, but there was no mistaking what she was actually saying.
“One of the last great poets,” Neil remarked, a brow quirked as she groaned.
“It’s called shit-talking for a reason,” she said defensively.
Onscreen, old—or was it young ?—Zephyr seemed to notice the reporter for the first time. She blinked at him. “Did you ask me if I’m going to win the Racing Cauldron ?”
“I haven’t asked anything—”
“Let me answer your question with another question. Do you really think any of these has-beens can beat me ?”
Neil snapped her back to the present by turning the television off with a click of a remote. He looked at her, but she raised a hand before he could speak.
“Not a word, Finnegan. And I did win the Cauldron as a rookie.” Now she used the golden cauldron trophy to store her unsorted mail, but Neil never had to find out about that.
“Zephyr.” Neil gently laid a hand on her upper arm to catch her attention.
“Don’t cringe. I’m not going to talk about that interview.
Although, it’s nice to see some things do change.
A little.” He took a reluctant breath. “I wanted to take something back. I shouldn’t have accused you of hiding.
I don’t know why you came back. Or how long you’ll stay.
Not to mention the irony of someone like me accusing anyone of hiding themselves.
” She stared at his hand on her arm until he self-consciously removed it.
Neil coughed. “Anyway, I’ll call you when your car is—”
Impulsivity also fueled the rush she craved.
Zephyr didn’t think. She just grabbed Neil’s collar and yanked him down as her feet pushed off the ground.
She floated, only for a second, before kissing him hard.
When she pulled back, her magic hovered her there as they stared, wide-eyed, at each other.
Fighting with him hadn’t given her the high she wanted. And judging by his stunned look, flirting wouldn’t give her what she wanted either.
Her magic vanished, and she crashed, feet thudding heavily on the concrete floor. She stuttered, “Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll go. Just keep my car. Wait, no. That’s crazy. I can—”
“You’re still fucking reckless,” he whispered.
The accusation erased any guilt. She narrowed her eyes, stepping toward him and pushing his chest with both hands. “And you’re too fucking cautious.”
He stared down at her hands—they hadn’t left his body. Blue eyes, electric, flicked back up to meet hers. “Today, just for you, I won’t be.”
Before she could even laugh in disbelief, his rough hands tangled in her hair, and his mouth found hers again.
His kisses were harsh and biting. Nothing felt practiced or predictable, and Zephyr wrapped her arms around his neck just to keep pace with him.
It felt amazing, the giddiness of it. And even the confusion helped keep her demons at bay.
She refused to analyze why Neil was reciprocating her madness.
He was supposed to be the rational one. But to hell with being rational if she got kissed like this .
Zephyr whimpered against his lips, the sound shocking them both, judging by the way he moaned in response.
But before she could figure him out, or at least get his shirt off, it rained . Indoors. A downpour right over her head, blinding her and soaking her hair.
She sputtered rather unattractively, backing away and covering her head with her arms as she failed to keep dry.
A scattering of gray clouds blocked out the ceiling, magic cracking across them in bright gold streaks.
Neil looked horrified as he raised his open hand and snapped it shut.
The conjured gray clouds paled and vanished, along with the downpour of rain.
“Shit,” he swore. He shielded his eyes with a hand and then dropped it down to cover his mouth. “You surprised me. Let me get a towel.”
“It’s fine,” she said, half-laughing. She swept her damp hair away from her face.
“No, it’s not,” he sniped, but his frustration seemed directed inward. “I don’t slip like this. Not anymore.”
“When we were kids, you used to shock me. This is nothing compared to that.”
That didn’t help. If anything, the man appeared more distraught. “I had less control over my emotions back then,” Neil explained. “The town used to carry umbrellas from 10 to 11 a.m. every school day.”
She cocked a brow. “They did? Why?”
“That was the hour we sat together in Potions class. If you so much as asked me to borrow a pencil, I’d make it storm. Not in the classroom, thank the gods.” He frowned, rubbing his mustache thoughtfully. “I didn’t mean to shock you, but—”
“Did you shock me because you had a crush on me?” She fought to remember what he was like in high school, but all she recalled was his constant needling about their Potions class projects.
She had very much been a last-minute kind of student, and that had driven him mad.
If there had been any sign that he had liked her, even remotely, she had been blind to it.
“I thought it was obvious, but you were always a little self-centered.” When she scowled at that, Neil rushed out, “That’s what I liked about you. Your focus. You always knew what you wanted, and you got it.”
Her focus was fragmented now. It had been for months. So many wants and fears pulled her in every direction. If Neil had had any idea how lost she was, he wouldn’t have kissed her back.
“You liked how self-centered I was?” And still am , she thought.
“I’m not explaining this right.” He touched the ends of her hair. “It’s too cold to go outside with your hair wet. Let me help.”
“A hand dryer will take care of this. It’s okay,” she said. “Where’s the bathroom—never mind. Found it.”
Two doors caught her eye. One was obviously the entrance to the garage’s front office. And this other door must be the restroom , she decided. Zephyr rushed over, grabbing the handle of the door and swinging it open.
“Wait, not that door!” Neil shouted.
He was too late. Zephyr stared in horror at the storage closet she had unveiled. From shelf to shelf, top to bottom, she saw her own face staring back at her.
A full-size cardboard cutout of Zephyr stood in the back of the closet, dressed in her crimson racing gear.
Posters with her smirking face covered the walls, and every shelf contained action figures of her on her broomstick, waving at an invisible crowd.
The collection even included the limited-edition snow globe she had reluctantly agreed to.
It was horrifying . And it explained why Neil was watching her on her delivery route. It explained why he had kissed her. Why he knew her birthday. He was stalking her.
“Oh my gods,” Zephyr whispered. Her hand flew to cover her racing heart.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Neil stammered. “I can explain all of this if you just give me a damn minute—”
Dale flew between them, giving Zephyr time to run over and slam her palm on the garage door button to raise it.
When she reached the opening, she held two fingers up, pointed them at her eyes, and then jabbed them at Neil.
I’m watching you , she mimed. Then she bravely ran away into the storm gathering outside.