The Calling (44 page)

Get over yourself, Jessica. Men that rich and good looking don’t get hot and bothered over nerdy engineers.

She let go of Abel’s hand and stepped inside the aircraft. After a quick once-over, she headed to the cockpit to check out the avionics. The wind made an eerie whistling noise, gusting past the nose and over the windshield. She slid into the leather co-pilot seat, then glanced back to see what Abel and Brandon were inspecting. Abel’s eyes narrowed as Brandon scurried down the cabin aisle, pushing past him.

Brandon plopped next to her in the pilot seat and grinned so wide, she was sure if she tried, she could count all twenty-eight of his even, white teeth. It was the first time she’d really noticed him, and he certainly wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He seemed about her age and had sandy blond hair. With broad shoulders and slim hips, he looked like he hadn’t missed a day at the gym since puberty.

“How do you like being an engineer for Clyde?” he asked.

Jessica tilted her head. “How did you know I’m an engineer?”

His grin disappeared, and his eyes widened. “Lucky guess?”

She was about to press him for more information when Abel tapped on Brandon’s shoulder. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the back of the passenger cabin. With a scowl, Brandon shuffled out of his seat and moved toward the entertainment system. His frown turned into a grin again when he punched a few buttons and the moving map appeared.

Turning her attention to the flight displays, Jessica ran her hand over a control panel. Her palms began sweating the instant Abel sat next to her, and she couldn’t help but note how differently she reacted to the two men. Brandon was like having a giant puppy dog by her side, all excitement and friendly energy. Abel was more like sitting next to a CEO who was sizing her up for a job offer. He made her heart pound and her head dizzy.

“So, what do you do at Clyde?” Abel asked while his large hands explored the avionic switches.

“I’m a design engineer.” She tried hard to keep her voice professional with an edge of authority. She’d learned early that if she wanted to be taken seriously in a man’s world, she had to take herself seriously. That meant projecting confidence even when she didn’t feel it.

He nodded once as his hands nimbly moved across the navigation system and up to the auxiliary power. He pushed a button. The avionics sprang to life with a loud beep and whirring noise. She jumped in her seat, the sound startling her.

He threw her a twisted smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t usually so jumpy, but with him beside her, it was as though all her senses were magnified—including her hearing.

Abel stared at her, his expression one of curiosity and contemplation. “I haven’t met many female engineers. How long have you been with this company?”

“Seven months.”

She twisted in her seat to take in the view outside the weather window. His gaze, along with all the heat coming off the avionics, made her warm. Had the mechanics forgotten to turn on the air conditioner?

“Do you like your job?”

Jessica turned back to him. He watched her with penetrating green eyes, and though he sat two feet away, she could almost feel his fingers caressing her skin. Her temperature spiked.

Abel must have noticed her flushed state, because he pressed a button and a breeze of cold air hit her neck. Flustered but relieved, Jessica adjusted the vent so the air hit her in the face.

“Your job?” Abel reminded. “Do you like it?”

She swallowed hard before answering. “It’s not as challenging as I thought it’d be, but it’s a good place to get experience.”

Abel cocked an eyebrow. “So in other words, you wouldn’t mind a new position?”

Letting the blessedly cool air leach the heat from her skin, she leaned back in her seat and pondered his words. She hadn’t meant to give him the impression she didn’t like her job. Even if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do, the position was respectable, especially for someone starting out on their career path. “I like the job well enough. And given the economy, I’m happy to have work.”

“You shouldn’t let the economy dictate what you do. If you’re unhappy with your job, you should try and find something better.”

“I’m learning a lot. Once I have more experience, I’ll have more options.”

Abel lowered his chin and gave her a half-smile. “But eventually, you’d like to find something you’re passionate about, right?”

The twinkle in his eye that she’d found so becoming earlier was turning obnoxious. She didn’t hate her job. Clyde was a good company. She just wasn’t sure her job was a perfect fit. How many millions of Americans felt the same way?

Jessica drummed her fingers on the navigation panel. “Are you trying to convince me to quit?”

“Not at all. You’re young and obviously talented. I’m merely saying you shouldn’t sell yourself short.”

This man knew nothing about her. Why would he think she was talented? She stared at him for a moment, trying to garner some clue as to why he was acting so strange. Something unsettling danced behind his eyes, as if he knew her, but that was ridiculous. Only, the feeling that he had an interest in her beyond the delivery wouldn’t ease.

Time to leave
, she decided, her skin prickling from his focused gaze. Unfortunately, his broad shoulders blocked the small door leading out of the cockpit. She rose from her seat anyway, thinking he’d get the hint and let her through. Instead, he reached out a hand as if he were going to push her back in her seat. Jessica gasped, trying to avoid his touch. He reached around her and dislodged a lever by her leg, his arm brushing her knee. The plane swayed from side to side as a gust of wind caught the wing. A grinding noise, like metal scraping across concrete, penetrated the cabin.

What the heck was that?

Her heart pounding, she stared at Abel. She expected a panicked look on his face, but he appeared relaxed, just gazing out the cockpit window. He even leaned closer to the weather window, his shoulder no longer blocking her exit.

Footsteps echoed behind her. She swung around and saw Brandon clambering toward the stairs. His face contorted in a bewildered expression. She followed him out of the plane and tried to catch up as he ran behind the wing.

Doug stood gazing at the jet, his mouth hanging slightly ajar and his hands on his hips. “Dammit, what happened? Did someone forget to engage the gust lock?”

Jessica clamped her hand over her mouth as she stared at the wing. Her stomach threatened to jump out of her throat. The aileron was curled, ripping a section of the trailing edge into warped aluminum shreds. It would not be a minor repair. The mechanics would have to remove the entire wing to fix damage that extensive. That wasn’t cheap or fast. Someone was in trouble.

Abel’s calm voice came from behind her. “Jessica knocked the gust lock with her knee when she stood up.”

She froze, not sure she’d heard him right. Had he just blamed her for damaging his aircraft?

Oh, God, she was the one in trouble.

Trying to think of something to explain this mess, she gaped at Doug. Then, it hit her. The grinding noise had happened after Abel unlatched the lever by her knee. He’d wrecked his own aircraft.

Pointing a finger at a customer wasn’t appropriate, but she hadn’t damaged his plane. She was out of options. With nothing to lose but her job, she spun on her heel and glared at Abel, readying herself for a confrontation.

Excerpt from Love Potions by Michelle McCleod

Available Now

Love Potions

by Michelle McCleod

Copyright © Michelle McCleod

Chapter One

Marion waved black smoke away from her face, muttering a string of swear words under her breath. The scent of cloves stung her nose. Rose petals, flames curling their edges, littered the floor like confetti from hell. This was her fourth attempt to get this love potion right, and, no matter how she varied the ingredients, it still blew up in her face.

She wasn’t making a love potion so much as a love bomb--one that had little affection for a clean kitchen. At this rate she would never obtain her potions license. Noticing the soot on the ceiling, she realized she might not get back her security deposit on the apartment either.

From the living room, her roommate said, “Oh no. Not again.”

“Yes, again,” she said with a sigh. “Sorry, Raven.”

Raven came into the kitchen and leaned against the door jamb. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. “Mar, you know I love you, but I’m really tired of the smoke. The first thing guys ask when they come over is if something is on fire.”

“Look, I’m really sorry.” Marion frowned down at her potion pot, which appeared to have a hole in the bottom. Damn. This was the first time she’d used it too.

“I know, but ‘sorry’ doesn’t get rid of the smell. It’s gotten to where I avoid werewolves and you know how much I like furry men.” Marion’s roommate paused, a faraway look in her eyes, and then gave herself a little shake. “Anyway, I think it might be time to confine your efforts to the lab at the university.”

Marion sighed again and threw her potion pot into the garbage. Another three-hundred-dollar pot ruined. She was going to have to review her budget again and find the money for another one. But no more non-stick potion pots. They were too expensive. She’d have to make do with the cheap ones from WitchMart.

“You’re right,” she said with a glum look at Raven. “I’ll do this at school from now on.” It would mean late nights on campus, but it would save her the clean-up in the kitchen. The university labs had wards in place to contain any magic accidents. Potions or spells gone bad simply disappeared as if they’d never existed, but the incident reports students had to fill out provided documentation enough. Documentation Marion had hoped to avoid since too many incident reports could lower her grade. She was barely passing Potions as it was.

“Have you considered that maybe your problem isn’t the potion, but you?” Raven opened the kitchen window, shooing the air out with her hands.

“What do you mean?” Marion grabbed the broom and swept the rose buds into a pile. The roses had turned to ash and smeared black across the white linoleum. Great. She’d have to mop, too.

“I mean, maybe a love potion requires some, you know, action?”

She stiffened. “I’m not you.” Her roommate was the social butterfly while Marion worked hard to be the beige wallflower. She liked solid walls at her back; it meant no one could sneak up behind her.

“You don’t have to be. Frankly, I don’t want the competition. But since you are human, I know deep down, underneath that scholarly facade is a passionate woman just waiting for the right man.” Raven paused and gave Marion the once-over. “Look at you. Your hair is singed. You’re wearing sweatpants and your shirt is more gray than white. You’re not even making an effort.”

“You know I wear old clothes for potions.” Marion plucked at the frayed hem of her shirt, trying to tuck it under and out of sight.

“And to the grocery store and your classes. Homeless trolls dress better.”

Marion steeled herself against the truth of Raven’s statement. She owed no one an explanation. Besides, Raven, with her easy confidence and quick charm, wouldn’t understand. “I’m going to go take a shower and get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll even meet your standards when I’m done.” She swept past her roommate to the bathroom and slammed the door.

“I’m just trying to help,” Raven yelled after her.

Marion turned the water on full force drowning out her roommate’s voice and dropped her clothes on the floor. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and shook her head. Raven was right. Her hair was singed. What she hadn’t mentioned was that it also looked like birds had been trying to construct a nest in it. She took a moment to brush it out before stepping into the shower knowing if she didn’t get the worst of the tangles out now, it would hurt like hell later.

Dark hair smooth, Marion set the brush down on the vanity, and caught sight of the scars on her wrist. Two years had passed since the doctors had pinned it back together and she hadn’t been on a date since. It still didn’t feel safe. Which was why she needed to pass her potions class, so she could start the magical defense courses. They were the only thing that could protect her.

* * *

Marion was in her room trying to find some clothes to wear when Raven barged in without knocking. “Hey, I’m going out tonight. Do you want to come?” She paused, realizing Marion was naked. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were getting dressed.”

Nonplussed at the intrusion, Marion wrapped her towel around her body. Raven never knocked and she had gotten used to her roommate’s practice of doing first and thinking later. “I don’t know if I’m up for a night out.”