Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1) (5 page)

Jade recoiled. “I won’t be your freak show. I’m not going to go just so you can poke and prod me. Forget it.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Paris assured. “As I said, people are curious, but they will be respectful.”

“How can you be sure?”

He gave her a small smile. “I’m Coven Leader. They will follow my example.”

She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. If the rest of his coven followed Paris’ lead then it was logical to assume that the same would be expected of her if she joined. But still, she was tempted to go. To go somewhere where maybe the strange things that were happening to her would make sense. To see what it was all about, learn new things. And she certainly couldn’t just hang around and wait to set something else on fire. The fires were getting bigger, harder to extinguish, springing wilder. Plus, she was a big girl. If she didn’t like something or was uncomfortable, she could leave. Jade had learned the hard way to trust her instincts. She could always go and if she got a weird or hinky vibe, she could ditch it.

It was so bizarre. Sure, she knew of the existence of witches, everyone did. But she hardly knew anything at all about covens. Was a coven of witches ten, twenty or one hundred people? Did they live in cities or have their own little village? What they would expect from her when she got there?

“For how long?” Jade asked. “How long would I have to stay?”

Paris hesitated and she saw it clearly. She narrowed her eyes.

“A month,” he said finally. “Come back with us for a month.”

She met his unblinking eyes across the space between them. “What will I have to do there?”

“You’ll get a chance to meet more of us. Learn more. We can teach you a lot of things.”

She pursed her lips. “What if I want to leave?”

“I think you’ll like being part of a coven, being around others with magic.”

She shook her head. “That’s not an answer. What if I want to leave?” she said again, more forcefully.

His smile was tight and she didn’t like the expression on his face. “We won’t keep you prisoner. If you don’t want to stay, we won’t force you.”

She was tempted, that was easy to admit it to herself. There was something about him that she wanted to trust. But he definitely was keeping something from her. He wasn’t outright lying, she didn’t get that sense from him, but he wasn’t telling her the whole truth either. She took a deep breath.

“Let’s see some magic first.”

“Pardon me?” Paris asked. She could tell by his expression that she’d completely surprised him.

She made a ‘come on’ gesture with her hands. “Magic. Let’s see some. I want to see some evidence or some incentive. So far it’s all been blah-blah-blah, talk-talk-talk.”

“Did you forget that I managed to contain the fire you had started on your coffee table?” he said, waving a hand toward the charred mess.

She gritted her teeth. “No,” she said sharply. “But I want to see some other proof. You can’t ask me to just ditch my life for a month because you managed one party trick.”

“Party trick,” he repeated.

“Yes. You say you’ve got magic, well apparently I do too. I’ve been setting shit on fire for weeks. I want to see something else, something different. If you want me to go with you because you say you can teach me, show me something that I can’t already do. Something that doesn’t involve just setting stuff on fire.”

“How do you think we found you if not for magic?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I wasn’t there to see it so it doesn’t count. So, chop chop.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s get with the hocus-pocus.”

He appeared honestly and genuinely flabbergasted that she was demanding magic from him.
Well, too goddamn bad,
she thought. If he wanted her to go with him, join a coven or whatever, she wanted to see something worth her time.

After another moment, Paris raised both his hands, palms facing each other, in front of him. He whispered something in a foreign language and white-blue sparks shot out, a miniature lightning storm arcing back and forth between his palms. The sparks hissed and popped, the stink of ozone in the air. She felt Paris watching her even as she stared down at his hands, watched the energy bouncing about. He wiggled his fingers slightly and the bright blue currents moved to his fingertips, arching the distance. He cupped his hands together, pushed the lightning into a ball which then rotated in between his hands, curving it into a beautiful plasma globe. Paris uttered another incomprehensible word and it disappeared with a crackle. He held his unscathed palms aloft, turning them over for her to see.

“That’s it?” Jade blurted. It was very pretty, but she’d kind of been hoping for something… More.

He raised an eyebrow. “Controlling a small amount of electricity in that fashion takes an extraordinary amount of discipline and focus.”

Jade shrugged. “If you say so.”

Paris pursed his lips together and tried again to take a step toward her. Again she moved back.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You bet your ass you’re not,” she replied quickly. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to assist you in trying some of your magic. On purpose this time.”

Her fingers twitched and fidgeted as she thought it over. Punching him in the head or hitting him with her toaster were both still viable options if things went south. She was in her own apartment so she could yell or holler and make a run for it. She glanced at the door and then back at him.

“Okay,” she said grudgingly. He stepped over to her and even though she didn’t move backward, she felt her whole body go on alert at his proximity.

“Hold out your hand,” he said, presenting his own hand out in front of her.

“Why?”

“I won’t hurt you,” he repeated.

She hesitated a moment, watching his outstretched hand. He didn’t move, stayed perfectly still, waiting for her to decide. She reached her right hand out slowly, holding it out, palm down. He took her fingertips gently and she flinched, snatching her hand back.

“I just want you to turn it over, palm up.”

Paris’ voice was quiet and steady, no judgment in his tone and Jade felt a little embarrassed. She turned her hand over and held it out again, this time with more confidence. His fingertips were slightly warm and she wondered if it was from the magic he’d just shown her. This close, he smelled outdoorsy and spicy - like the night air.

He cradled her hand in one of his and she kept shifting her gaze from her hand back to him and then back down again.

“I want you to think about your hand, and think about heat, about fire. Think about the other times you seemingly made it happen. What were you feeling then? Surprise? Anger? Fear? Imagine-”

They both flinched when a small flame burst out of the center of her palm. Paris saved his eyebrows by shielding his face from the sudden, tiny nova. It didn’t burn her palms, but she could still feel the heat and the shock of it.

“Is that…?” she began haltingly. “Is that what you wanted?”

She stared at the flames but it didn’t burn her retinas or make her see spots. It felt different than it had before, when she’d done it accidentally. She could actually sense the fire coming from deep within herself this time, as if it was attached to something there. She focused on the orange and yellow flame in her palm and had a sudden urge to twist it.

It curled into a strange spiral, uneven, with small licks and tails spilling out from the edges.

It felt… Fun. She laughed a bit and was delighted when the flame seemingly wobbled along with her laughter. She wanted to make it bigger, brighter, stronger, more.

“No, not today,” Paris said, almost interrupting her thoughts, and her eyes snapped back to him. He was warily staring at the flame in her hand.

Disobeying him seemed like the only natural reaction. She wanted more, she could do more, she could feel it inside her, like it wanted
out
.
The flame in her hand leapt up higher, shifting from yellow to blue as it burned hotter and it made something in her relax and unclench.

“No,” he said again and she felt the awful pressure in her chest again, the sick feeling like something was reaching inside her and pulling.

“That’s my magic pushing yours, Jade. I can push harder. Let it go.”

This time, she did as he asked - anything to make that churning, queasy feeling inside her stop. She dropped her hand, thinking
stop stop stop
at the flames, at the fire. It winked out of existence with a soft sucking sound.

The pressure in her chest immediately eased, but left a lingering nausea behind. She pushed a palm against her sternum, trying to press back against the heaving thickness. Jade felt a surge of resentment toward Paris for causing it.

He stumbled back a step as though she had struck him and glared her sharply.

“What?” Jade asked.

“You hit me with your magic,” he said, his face open and stunned.

She didn’t realize she’d done that, didn’t even know how she’d done it. “Oops?”

“We’re obviously going to have to work on your impulse control.”

She frowned, put off by his tone. “You don’t have to get snippy. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know. That’s why it’s a problem,” he said, giving her a school-teacher look.

Anger boiled up in her at his words, his expression. “You know, I didn’t ask you to come here. You’re the one that showed up all ‘come to my coven and let’s do some magic.’” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him defiantly. This was exactly why she didn’t like to meet new people or join groups. There always seemed to be rules or expectations that she wasn’t aware of, and then she felt awkward, angry and weird about it. “I can learn about it on my own,” she lied. “I don’t have to come to your stupid coven anyway.”

Okay, now she sounded like a petulant ten-year-old but it was too late, the words were out there and she couldn’t snatch them back. So maybe, she might possibly have a slight problem with impulse control. She didn’t need this guy to point it out.

Paris held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I apologize,” he said and she was surprised. She had flown off the handle but here he was, apologizing to her like he’d done something wrong. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” she shot back. Yep. Still sounding like a ten year-old.
Goddamn it.

“Excellent. I’m glad you’re not upset,” he replied smoothly. Paris sounded like he did this kind of thing all time - ironing feathers and making amends. Maybe he did - it wasn’t like she knew what his job really was, other than he was a witch from a coven. “I do want you to come to our Coven, Jade. I think you’ll learn a lot. Maybe even find happiness there?”

She wanted to tell him he didn’t know a thing about her, or what would make her happy, but she managed to engage her brain-mouth filter for once and keep quiet. He looked at her expectantly and a silence filled the air. When he didn’t say anything else she gaped. “What? Now? It’s ten o’clock at night. I’m not going anywhere tonight. I have work tomorrow.”

He blinked like that was unexpected and checked his watch. “So it is. We could leave tomorrow. Call in sick or whatever you need to do.”

She shook her head. “I have to think about this. I can’t just…” She waved her hand and huffed. “You can’t expect me to just take off with you after a few magic tricks. It’s all a little woo woo,” she said making crazy circling motions with her finger near her temple.

“But you know it’s real,” he said assuredly. “You saw it for yourself. You felt it within yourself.”

Jade bit the inside of her lip and shook her head again. “I need to think about this. I want you to leave.”

Paris fumbled into his pocket for a moment and she got the impression it was one of the few times in his life he wasn’t assured and in command of himself.

“Just, take my card.” Paris handed it over to her and she fingered the expensive cardstock and raised type that had his name, his number and an email address. “Call me if you have any questions. Or you can speak to Callie, she accompanied me here. She’ll be happy to talk to you as well. Anytime, day or night.”

“Okay, I’m getting a bit of
eau de desperation
here and it’s creeping me out,” Jade said flatly.

His eyes narrowed in confusion or befuddlement and he stared at her. “You’re very peculiar.”

She rolled her eyes. “Way to win me over. Goodnight.” She jerked her thumb toward the door and followed a step behind him when he moved toward it.

“Please, consider it seriously.”

“Creeping me out,” she repeated, swinging the door open and gesturing towards the hallway.

“It was a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said and he held his hand out for her to shake.

She stared at it for a moment and then slid her palm against his. His hand was warm and dry and she felt awkward knowing hers was slightly sweaty. She hated limp fish handshakes. They grossed her out so she was relieved when he clasped her hand firmly. Doing the same in return, she managed not to flinch when he cupped their hands in his other one. It was a strangely old world gesture and she wondered if it was a witch thing.