Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1) (24 page)

She looked along the wall, taking in the three paintings quickly again.

“You’re missing fire,” she said. Her voice echoed in the mostly empty space. There really wasn’t enough furniture to fill the wide living room, and the hardwood floors did nothing but bounce the sound around.

“Pardon?” Paris asked, shutting and locking the door as he came in behind her.

She gestured with her good hand. “Water, air, earth. You’re missing fire.”

His eyes flickered over the paintings quickly. “They belonged to my mother. I don’t know where she got them. I think they’re all by the same artist, but I don’t know why there isn’t one for fire.”

“Huh. Maybe she thought they looked better in threes,” Jade mused. “But I would think for a witch, she’d want all four. Aren’t you guys big on balance and representation?”

“If it’s meant to be representative of magic, then yes, there should be a fourth painting. But perhaps she only meant it decoratively.”

He led her up the stairs, hovering right behind her, too close for her liking. But the truth was, she did feel a little shaky and tired so she didn’t say anything and she let herself be directed upwards and then along a short hallway to a quaint bedroom. He opened the door for her and flicked on the light.

“Extra blankets are in the closet, the bathroom’s one door over on the left,” he said, stepping back and leaving room for her to enter. It was sparse like the lower level, but the bed was a double and had a fat, white duvet. It looked like it would be ridiculously fluffy and soft and she wanted to weep just thinking about lying down and feeling it settle on her.

“Can I get you anything?”

She pointed awkwardly to the mirror above the room’s dresser. “Does that… I mean, can it come down?”

He glanced over quickly and nodded once, striding over and pulling it from the wooden slats it rested in. He even flipped it away from her, facing his body.

“Uh, is there anything else that could suddenly grow hands or be in any way used as a portal to Demon Land?” She paused and looked hard at the bed. “Like under the bed?” She felt about six years old all over again staring at the dark, black space between the box-spring and the floor.

“No,” his voice was assured, even. Everything she wanted to hear.

“Maybe I’ll just live in this room. You guys can bring me food.” Jade moved toward the bed and crawled on top, stretching out on her stomach. Even with all her aches and pains it felt
wonderful
. “And the internet,” she added.

“For the rest of your life?” he asked. Through the corner of her eye she noticed him leaning in the doorframe, bulky mirror tucked awkwardly under his arm.

She pressed her face into the pillow, mashing it back and forth a bit, trying to find an angle that didn’t aggravate the bruises on her neck or the bandage on her head. “I said food and the internet. What else do I really need?”

She could hear how slurred her words were. She really should push herself up, take his sweater off and get under the covers. And she would.

In five minutes.

“Do you need anything for tonight?”

Jade was going to say that no, she was fine, but if he had a spare t-shirt lying around, she wouldn't say no to using it for pajamas and if he had a spare toothbrush, she’d take that too.

What came out of her mouth was a single syllable kind of grunt.

She had a vague notion of him stepping closer and then pulling part of the quilt over her, folding her in the soft white fabric like a croissant roll. The room went dark and she heard him pull the door shut quietly before she fell asleep.

Chapter 12

Paris heard Jade wake up, her feet hitting the floor above him as he sat at the table, working on his laptop and sipping coffee. It was late, but she needed the rest so he’d let her sleep, deciding to do some work from home. Paris had eaten earlier in the morning but as it was almost noon now, he could stand to eat again.

Five minutes after he heard her feet on the ceiling above, she was poking her head around the corner, like a groundhog popping out of its hole in February. She looked horrible. She’d already had bruises around her neck and now more blossomed out from around her head bandage. She looked pale and stark, still wearing the sweater he had loaned her.

She sniffed the air cautiously, taking a few awkward steps into the kitchen. It was obvious from the way she moved that she was stiff and sore.

“What’s that?”

“I’m making an omelet,” he replied easily. “There’s coffee as well. And some ibuprofen in the drawer by the fridge.”

She made a beeline for the coffee pot, and hesitated slightly, turning to him and raising an eyebrow to ask for a mug. Paris jerked his chin toward the cupboard to her left. She deftly managed to pour herself a cup and then puttered over to the fridge to get the cream, using both hands despite one being in a cast. She found the ibuprofen and knocked back a few, washing them down with coffee as she headed for the table.

“You got enough eggs for two?”

He didn't miss how she turned his laptop toward her and looked over his screen, completely oblivious or indifferent to any privacy.

“There is enough for two.” He gestured at the computer. “You should be able to check your webmail if you like.”

She pulled the computer toward her and she was awkward with her broken wrist, unable to get her hand at the right angle to type. She hunted and pecked for the letters she wanted, studying the screen.

She pursed her lips. “Is there toast?”

He smirked at her nonchalant tone. “Since you don’t smell any toast, you know the answer is no.”

“Could there be toast?”

“There could be. Would you like toast, Jade?” Paris turned to meet her gaze as she peeked over the top of the laptop.

“I like to put the eggs on the toast,” she said defensively.

“Well, I suppose it can be arranged,” he was trying not to laugh at her expression, like she had to harass him into adding toast to her breakfast, or justify it. He plated the eggs and reached for the bread.“But you have to turn the computer off.”

She made a
pish
sound. “I usually just work and eat at the same time.”

“Eating while working is vulgar.”

“Who told you that?” her face had twisted itself up.

“My mother,” he replied as he set her slices of bread into the toaster. The handle was sticky and he tried three times without success to get it to stay down. He pulled the slices back out, put them on the plate and waved his hand over them. They toasted instantly.

She was interested, her posture perking up as soon as she saw magic. “I didn’t know you could toast like that.”

“You’ve just arrived at the Coven. I’ve been doing magic since I was two.”

She slouched dejectedly. “I’m never going to catch up.”

He wouldn’t set the plate down in front of her until she pushed the laptop off to the side. She rolled her eyes but complied nonetheless.

“Your mom big on manners?” she asked as she took a large bite of eggs.

“I had to follow proper etiquette at the table or I wouldn’t get served.” He scooted his chair slightly closer to the table.

“God, that explains a lot,” she muttered around her mouthful of food. She washed it back with some coffee. “Uh, thanks for letting me stay here last night. And for the sleep-in this morning.”

“You’re welcome. If you feel up to it, I’d like to go back to your place and have a look around again and then back to the restaurant, see if there’s any lingering magic.” He paused, watching her push her food around on the plate.

“What’re you hoping to find?” She stared down at her food, not looking up.

He shrugged. “Something that will lead us to our unknown witch. Something familiar to me, or perhaps some left over ingredients for any magic they may have performed in those locations.”

“You guys found me easily enough, why not this person?”

“You were performing unsanctioned magic. Magic outside a coven and without any spells or incantations. It’s quite distinct and sets off a sort of energy. We didn’t track you, we tracked that. You were essentially bleeding out power and there were a few of us that could feel it. It’s calmed down since you’ve started practicing magic. It’s almost like you couldn’t hold it all in and your magic was sending up a beacon for all witches to see.”

She seemed to mull that over while she nibbled on the corner of her toast. “This unknown witch,” Paris said, continuing, “is working within the system. We’re all kind of desensitized to regulated magic, even if the spells aren’t performed often, or are rare. It has its own kind of aura and it mixes and blends in well with other magic. Unless I can figure out something about it that’s different, that sets it apart. Then we can track that.”

“And the anti-demon magic? You said you had something last night.”

He nodded, tossing back the rest of his coffee. “Yes, Hannah was able to procure me some wards and I used them last night to protect the house.” He grimaced slightly. “Unfortunately, no one has firsthand knowledge of their effectiveness.”

“So you can’t tell if I’m safe or if I’m just not under attack right now.”

He didn’t want to say it straight out that way, but she had it in a nutshell. She ate most of her eggs and all of the toast, taking her plate to the sink on her way to get another cup of coffee.

“While we’re at your place, you can pick up a few things and bring them back here. Some clothes, your electronics. I know you’re fond of them.”

She tried to smile at him from where she leaned against the counter. “Callie and Henri?” she asked.

He nodded. “Already back at the library researching. I think Callie is scanning some pages she wants you to look at. They have descriptions of demons and she was wondering if you could pick out the first demon from them.”

“You mean Bob,” Jade answered. “Bob’s demon number one. Doug’s number two.”

“Yes. Bob.”

She appeared uncertain and perhaps slightly scared, but she squared her shoulders. “Can do.” She rubbed her eyes, careful to steer clear of the bandage over her stitches. “If we go back to the other place first, it should be safe to shower, right? I smell like hospital.”

“I can set the wards there too. I’ll stay with you.” She gave him a sharp, incredulous look. “Not in the shower,” he added quickly. “Obviously.”

She started to give a full body stretch and then winced as soon as her arms were about to be extended. She curled back in on herself.

“Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

*

Jade slept hard the night before, barely moving throughout the night, waking up hot, sweaty and feeling groggy and heavy. She had strange dreams that she couldn’t really remember, only managing to get impressions of being chased, running and being afraid.

No big mystery there.

It was quiet as Paris drove to the small cottage which contained her stuff. Everyone kept referring to it as ‘her place’ but it wasn’t. It was just the place where she was temporarily hanging her hat. Although, it was tempting to refer to it as ‘hers.’ It was cute, small, cozy.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about staying at the Coven. Being under attack, feeling scared and paranoid was awful, but it could get resolved. Jade wasn’t exactly an optimist, and would punch anyone who said she was in the throat, but she did think that most problems were solvable. Would she always like the solution or would it be easy? No, but there would be a solution. She just had to make it happen. She was practical.

So there had to be a solution to this mess, an endgame. After that, she’d have to decide what she wanted to do with her life.

Presuming, of course, that the solution to this problem included her making it out alive. If not, then the decision on staying at the Coven or not was pretty much made. The dead didn't move anywhere.

So, if Jade assumed that there was a way out of this, then she was going to have to decide what to do. Would they find someone to break her magic? If they did, would she want them to? Magic was pretty fucking cool, she admitted. She liked it. She liked it a lot, actually, and wanted to learn more. But it looked like being part of the Coven came with attachments to people.

She’d been studiously avoiding attachments for years.

But it had been nice that morning to have Paris make her breakfast, having someone there to talk to. She enjoyed Callie and Henri’s company, and envied the easy way they had with one another. She hadn’t felt like that around anyone else since…

Not going to think about that right now
.

She turned her face to the window and rubbed her fingertips over her eyebrows, smoothing along with the short, tiny hairs, the gesture soothing the pain that was flaring up - a dull ache that she awoke with and would probably feel for a few days.

Once at the cottage, Paris took a quick look around upstairs, casting his wards, which he swore to teach her later, and declared the place ‘safe.’ She gathered some stuff from her luggage and then headed to the bathroom, pausing where he stood in front of the door.