A Little Night Magic (24 page)

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Authors: Lucy March

BOOK: A Little Night Magic
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My entire body started shaking then, little racking spasms of fear I was too weakened to control. Betty rubbed my back and said, “Everything is going to be okay. But Cain’s right. You need to rest. Get a little sleep, and you’ll be able to deal with everything else.”

I nodded, although I wasn’t sure I believed her.

Betty got up off the couch and looked down at me. “I’m going to go upstairs and prepare the guest rooms. I’m staying, and I assume”—she nodded in the direction of the kitchen—“
he’s
staying, too?”

“He’s the man with the plan, and that’s more than I’ve got so … yeah,” I said.

“And Tobias…?” she said softly.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But there are four guest rooms upstairs, and there’s clean bedding in the closet at the end of the hall, next to the bathroom. Thank you.”

Betty nodded and headed upstairs. I had a few moments of silence, and then the front door opened, and Tobias walked in.

“All quiet on the western front?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“You look like hell,” I said, not really meaning to be so blunt about it, but unable to edit myself.

He rubbed at his face, and I could hear the scratch of the scruff under his hand. “That sounds about right. I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Up the stairs, second door on the right. Room’s yours, if you want to stay here tonight.”

He eyed me for a second, then said, “The couch is fine.”

“God, I’m not making a pass,” I said, feeling a stab of annoyance. “You made yourself clear on that. I’m just saying, this house is lousy with guest bedrooms, and I’m offering you one.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s just that someone should be down here on the couch, keeping an eye out.”


I’m
staying on the couch,” a voice said from behind me. I turned and saw Cain standing in the entryway between the hall and the living room. He, however, wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at Tobias.

“She needs sleep,” he said. “You want to help her to her room, or should I?”

“Oh,
please,
” I said, pushing myself up off the couch. “I’m not an invalid, I don’t need—
whoa.

I put my hand to my head as the world got wobbly, and Tobias was there in a moment, one arm around my waist. I didn’t have enough pride left to fuel an argument, so I let him lead me upstairs, and I almost wept with gratitude when we got to my room and I saw my bed.

“I love this bed,” I said as I plopped face-first into my bedding. I turned my head to the side, indulging in the soft girliness of the down under my face. “I shouldn’t have mocked that guy who married his pillow. I’m having serious romantic feelings for this duvet.”

Tobias chuckled as he pulled back the covers and maneuvered me into them.

“Sleep well,” he said, and he might have said more, but I was passed out before I could hear anything else.

*   *   *

It was a little after dawn when my eyes fluttered open. The light in my room was dim, but I could see the shape of Tobias, slumped on the floor with his back against the door, his head hanging down as he slept. I could hear his breath, just the slightest hint of a snore, and I sat up to watch him.

His hands were clasped lightly over his stomach, which rose and fell with his breath. His lips turned up slightly at the corners, and I realized that despite all the incredible tragedy he’d experienced in his life, a smile was his default expression. I felt a sudden overwhelming swell of love for him, and then was distracted as my hands began to tingle.

Not now,
I thought, and shook them out, then closed my eyes and calmed my heart. When I opened them again, Tobias’s head was up, and he was watching me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “You slept by my door all night?”

He cleared his throat and shifted up so he wasn’t quite so slumped, then said, “Yeah.”

I smiled. “Did I mention I have four guest bedrooms in this place?”

He tapped one knuckle gently against the door. “You underestimate how comfortable this door is.”

I scooched to one side of the bed, making space for him. “Come up here. If you’re not going to leave my side, at least don’t be an idiot. You can’t protect me if you’ve got a spasm in your back.”

I patted the empty space next to me. He hesitated for a moment, then pushed himself up and lay down on top of the covers, leaning back into the pillows and letting out a slow sigh.

“You’re right,” he said, a small smile forming on his face. “This is a great bed.”

I lay down next to him, suddenly wide awake, and stared at the ceiling. I listened for his breathing to deepen and morph into the light snore I’d heard before, but after a few minutes went by and that didn’t happen, I turned my head to look at him, and found him watching me.

“I don’t care what Edward did in the Twilight books, watching a girl sleep is just creepy.”

He smiled. “You weren’t sleeping.”

“Don’t think you’re going to breeze by on a technicality, Shoop. You go all Cullen on me, I’m staking you through the heart.”

He laughed. “Good.”

I was quiet for a while, and then I said, “I’m sorry about all this. I know it sucks.”

“It’s okay,” he said.

“It’s not.” I turned in bed to face him, pushing up on one elbow. “I hate this. I hate having to deal with the magic at all, but to have some crazy woman want to kill me? That’s too much. And now you’re pulled into it, and Cain—I don’t care if he’s good, he still creeps me out.” I let out a heavy sigh. “And then there’s Millie.”

“What about Millie?”

“Davina did something to her,” I said. “She created this monster where Millie used to be. Millie was sweet and quiet and thoughtful and smart, and now she’s just … evil. It’s like Davina ate her soul or something. Can she do that?”

Tobias opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it.

I couldn’t have that. “Go ahead. Say it.”

He met my eye. “Davina gave her a makeover, and she loaned her some power. Everything else that Millie’s doing … I don’t know. I think it’s just … Millie.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? Have you met Millie? She would never hurt anyone.”

“Except, she
did,
” he said. “She seduced Nick. She attacked Peach, physically. Twice. Magic walnuts or a baseball bat, the choice to attack is what matters. Millie’s been repressed and angry for a long time. She was a stick of dynamite just waiting to be lit.”

I shook my head. “You barely even know her.
I
know her.”

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. You never really know anyone. You see what they want to show you, and if you’re lucky, they show you most of the truth. My point is, there’s only so much of this that you can blame on Davina. Millie made a lot of her own choices here.”

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel better,” he said. “I’m trying to tell you the truth.”

I flopped back into my pillow. “Yeah,
your
truth. And it’s a stupid truth. It stinks.”

He closed his eyes. “Fair enough.”

“Little flies are zooming around it, it stinks so bad.”

He opened one eye and looked at me. “You done yet?”

“Somewhere out there, there’s a dead fish thinking, ‘Well, at least I don’t stink as bad as Tobias’s truth.’”

He closed his eye again. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Jack Nicholson called. He said even he can’t handle the stink.”

He laughed. “I must be really tired, because that one struck me as funny.”

“It’s not that you’re tired. It’s that I’m funny. I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Yeah. You are.”

I looked at him then, and our eyes locked for a while. Then he held out his arm, and I curled up into him, resting my head on his chest and letting the reassuring
ta-dum
of his heartbeat lull me back to sleep.

16

After a breakfast of Betty’s incredible conjured blueberry muffins and my adequate coffee, Tobias left to get some things from his apartment, and Cain went into the living room to do something—he grumbled a few gruff words about research. Betty and I sat at my linoleum table and drank coffee and ate muffins until finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I saw Tobias coming out of your room this morning,” she said.

I lowered my coffee mug. “Seriously? Everything that’s going on? This is what we’re going to focus on?”

Betty grinned. “You bet. The best cure for times of crisis is gossip. So, tell me … what’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” It was the truth. I’d woken up in his arms, and there was a moment of awkwardness, and then we got up and started the day. “He slept against the door. He’s just being overprotective.”

I must have looked really unhappy, because the hungry glint left her expression, and she simply nodded and sipped her coffee. “Oh. Well, that’s good.”

The doorbell rang while Betty and I were cleaning up. We exchanged a wary glance, and then we headed into the foyer, only to be cut off by Cain darting in front of me from the living room. He put his hands on my shoulders to stop me where I was, then touched his fingers to his lips. He grabbed a Clorox spray bottle from a collection of them that were sitting in a cardboard box by the door.

“What’s he going to do?” Betty whispered in my ear as Cain stepped up to the door and looked through the peephole. “Disinfect her?”

I chuckled a little, and then Cain jerked his head toward the door, motioning for me to check out whoever it was. I walked up to the peephole and there was Stacy Easter, looking impatient on my porch.

I stepped back and nodded at him, feeling like I was in witness protection. “It’s okay.”

He pulled the door open, looking like a deranged Merry Maid with the Clorox bottle that, I realized now, Cain had likely spent the night emptying of antibacterial solution and replacing with magical pepper spray, or something like it. Stacy stepped inside, her eyes taking in a full drink of Cain.

“Hel-lo,” she said, putting a sultry tone in her voice.

Cain grunted and stalked off into the kitchen. Stacy looked at me. “Where have you been hiding him?”

“He’s…” I glanced toward the kitchen, unable to figure out a word for what Cain was. I gave up and looked back at Stacy. “Doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me. “Not much. Your father went missing ten years ago. His last known address was in Tennessee. There’s been no sign of him since. Take that to a real detective, you might have more luck.” She pointed to the paper as I unfolded it; it was a printout of a newspaper article, on which she’d scribbled an address in Avery, Tennessee, into the margin. “Sorry, that’s all I got on him.”

“Okay, so what’s this?”

“An article from the
Avery Citizen-Times,
” she said carefully. “Is that your sister?”

I looked at it, and the first thing I saw was a picture of a smiling woman with long, wavy brown hair, and underneath her picture, the caption:
Avery Unified teacher Holly Monroe.

I gasped and put my hand over my mouth, then absorbed the headline.

LOCAL TEACHER FOUND DEAD

My hand holding the printout started to shake, so I grabbed the other side with the other hand and tried to stabilize it enough to read. I absorbed it in bits, unable to take in the whole thing at once.

“Livvy?” Betty said, but I didn’t look up.

Holly Monroe found … unidentified companion unconscious … while police won’t give out details of the scene … possible satanic rites … thirty-one-year-old teacher was born in Avery, and taught at Avery Unified High School since … authorities still looking for anyone who can identify the companion, who has been unable to respond to medical staff … African-American woman in her late forties or early fifties … was calling the name, “Gabriel,” when she was first brought in, before slipping into unconsciousness …

“What’s going on?”

When I looked up, Cain was standing in front of the kitchen door, looking grim. But to be fair, Cain always looked grim. He stalked over to me, and I handed him the printout. He glanced at it quickly; it was obvious he’d seen it before. He shot a sharp look at Stacy.

“Who the hell are you? What do you know about this?”

Betty stepped closer. “Cain, this is Stacy.”

“Yeah?” He advanced on her, waving the printout. “Where’d you get this?”

Stacy widened her stance and met his eyes. “None of your fucking business.”

I touched his arm, which was taut as a wire. “I asked her to find my father.”

He shifted his focus to me. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“May I repeat?” Stacy said, stepping closer to him and drawing to her full height, which was still a foot shorter than his. “None. Of. Your. Fucking. Business.”

“Cain.” I touched his arm again. It took him a moment to look back at me, and when our eyes met, he softened a bit, but just a bit. There was still impotent fury in his expression, but he didn’t seem quite as likely to act on it.

“You okay?” he asked.

I held my hand out for the article, and he gave it back to me. I looked at the picture, trying to find something in there that said
sister
to me. But it was just a black-and-white shot, taken probably for a school yearbook somewhere along the line. She was beautiful; a wide smile, dark eyes, and she seemed … I don’t know. Smart. If you can tell that from a picture.

I looked back up at Cain. “This is what happened?”

Angry eyes met mine, but I could tell they weren’t angry with me. “Yeah. I went to the hospital to get Davina, but she was gone by the time I got there. Been tracking her ever since. And now, you’re up to date.”

Every muscle in my body felt suddenly weak. I had known the story, known I had a sister who had died, known that Davina had killed her. But there was something so … visceral about seeing her, about seeing what could have been my fate. What could
still
be my fate.

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