Wilder Mage (6 page)

Sable felt relieved knowing that at least Zephyr had found a permanent home. Good things did happen sometimes. At least it beat sleeping under a bridge together. She shivered, thinking of the hard concrete.

Sable left the kitten curled up on the sofa cushion in her room, her fur clumped slightly from an impromptu bath.

“Bye, Zephyr. I’ll be back later,” Sable said. The blue eyes opened languidly, and the kitten trilled softly, as if to say, “Okay, see you later.”

She didn’t meow like other cats. Instead, she “trilled,” a soft rumble like a cross between a purr and a normal meow. The kitten made it her catchall sound for every need or emotion.

Emmett drove Sable to the shop, promised to introduce her properly to Mr. Aubre, and then pick up supplies for their newest resident. He talked and laughed all the way to her new job, obviously the other bookend to a matched set in the couple’s marriage.

She sighed, looked without interest at the passing traffic, and held herself from getting too close. Later, it would only hurt more when she had to leave.

“Okey, dokey, here we are,” Emmett said cheerfully. “Now, don’t let Justus intimidate you. He ain’t much of a talker, heaven knows, but he has a good heart. Likes to keep to himself, not much of a busybody, if you know what I mean. Doesn’t get out much.”

Sable got out of the car and stood looking at the storefront. No broken glass remained; the sidewalk had been swept clean. Even the cracks in the pavement bore no evidence of dirt.

“So, he’s some kind of an introvert? Is that what you mean?”

“Yeah, that would be it. Laidback.” Emmett glanced at his watch. “I’ll pick you up in two, maybe three hours then, and we’ll have lunch. Sound okay?”

Sable nodded and grinned at him as he pulled away and then raised her hand as if to get his attention. She lowered her arm when he didn’t look back. Crap. He had forgotten to introduce her to the new boss. She sucked in a calming breath, opened the door to the shop, and stepped in.

She paused, struck by the difference in the shop’s now spotless floor and shelves. Like the outside walk, she saw nothing of broken glass. It was even clean of dust.

Her new boss, seemingly waiting, stood at the bar, watching her expression. All the courage she had drummed up evaporated as his black eyes focused on her and narrowed.

“I, uh, I was here y-y-yesterday,” she stuttered. “Sable. I’m Sable. Here to help, uh…”

His face was hard, his eyes almost angry. But as she nervously waited for some kind of response, his features smoothed.

“Miss Rounds, yes. We didn’t have a chance for introductions yesterday.” His voice, a moderately deep baritone, sounded husky, as if sometime in his past, he had sustained an injury to his throat. “I am Justus Aubre.” He held out his hand.

Sable took his large hand, feeling the calluses and the warmth. But the warmth was at odds with his eyes. They remained cold and intent, as if searching for her reaction. Then he dropped her hand and backed away, his cheek muscle rippling as he clenched his jaw.

His ivory skin contrasted with his blue-black hair and eyes, heavily fringed with the same black lashes. They seemed to look through her to the other side. Unwavering, he waited for her response.

“Um, looks like you’ve been busy,” she said, waving her hand around the shop. “It sure looks different.”

“Yes, I stayed up late cleaning.”

She nodded and dithered, wondered what he had left her to do. Unless, of course, that was the idea. He didn’t want her as an employee, she suddenly realized. With that thought, anger roiled inside her and she felt the touch of her magic briefly sizzle on her hands as she allowed it to manifest with the emotions.

“So,” she said briskly. “Where do you want me to start? I don’t see much cleaning to be done, but maybe you have another room to do?”

His eyes narrowed. “Organize some stuff, I guess. Clean the front windows. Sundays, we don’t do much until noon.” He turned away, went into a small room off to one side of the bar, and slammed the door behind him.

She gritted her teeth, stifling the magic that stroked her skin with the surge of anger. Her emotions would get the best of her if she didn’t control herself.

Magic, the curse of her life, and after the discovery of her small talents, it had given her nothing but trouble since she was a teen. The memory of her parents and their cold faces as they explained her “gift” chafed the familiar sore spot in her heart. Finding she was little more than a product of selective breeding had turned her life into a farce.

To humans, magic didn’t exist except in books and fables. The secret society of wizards laughed at the fairy tales, but the basics of the stories revealed the secret world of magic. The harsh politics of the Imperium functioned in similar ways to humankind, with its power struggles and cruelties. It ran in the background of human history, unknown and quiet.

The realm of magic operated and functioned without human interference, run by the strongest mage. Their goal was to gather potential wizards into the fold to keep their power base.

Sable was one of their targets, tagged by the Imperium as a child.

Bonded, her parents said. The leftovers from that nightmarish event never left her.

An aloof woman appeared without warning that day, a visitor who made her cold parents look warm and inviting by comparison. She had studied Sable with a humorless smile, as if eyeing a lab experiment. Sable’s parents bragged to the taciturn woman of the successful result of their mating.

At first, she didn’t understand what her parents were talking about, when the shock hit her. The normally distant people she knew as mother and father spoke of her as if she were a prize, not a daughter.

“Look at her,” they said to the woman. “Isn’t she exactly what you want?”

The strange woman had nodded and stroked Sable’s neck. She shivered, remembering cool fingers, her bones turning to liquid, and then the sensation of her body falling to the floor. And after…

Her parents clapped and said she was now bonded, but the words made no sense to her as she struggled to lever herself into a sitting position.

The woman ignored her parents’ revelry and showed no emotion as she looked down at Sable. In a swirl of perfume, she turned to leave and spoke over her shoulder to Sable’s parents. “She will be very strong in all elements when she is brought into her full potential.”

Before the strange woman vanished, she heard the low words the woman spoke to herself. “Then she will be mine.”

Her parents congratulated each other, expressing no concern as she stared at them dumbly. They treated it as if it were
fait accompli.
As if there was nothing she could do.

As if she was helpless.

But she had options and a strong will. The cold woman couldn’t control her until she achieved her potential and became a full wizard. Until then, she remained free.

She huffed. Hardly free when the hunters dictated her actions and she had to keep moving.

The strongest wizards could release vast energies with little effect on their metabolism, but using her minuscule talent left her exhausted.

Sable laughed humorlessly. What a choice, but between dancing to the Imperium’s tune or total collapse, she’d pick the latter.

She found a broom in a corner and swept the already clean floor. The grooves in the solid floor planks testified to its age and sturdy character. Deep mahogany-colored whorls curled in some places, amber-colored in others, and the varnished surface shone as if wet. The shelving was of the same wood, a timeless example of a century past, when people used natural resources instead of manufactured plastics. The bare window seats under the multi-paned windows faded in the strong sunlight into variegated patterns of dark and tan. The window glass held small imperfections, causing blurs in the panes, signs of glass manufactured at the turn of the century.

The sparkle of a prism caught her eye as it shimmered on a nearby shelf. She turned it to catch the rainbows of colors in the sunlight. It was a piece from a chandelier, an oval teardrop of clear glass. Other crystals and prisms were scattered among the different shelves, and she began to gather them. Crystal spears, pear-shaped prisms, small beads, and balls were scattered among the china teacups or brass figurines. Some were similar, as if from the same chandelier, and others were obviously different, in color or quality, subtle blues, pinks, and lavenders. In her hunt, Sable found several strings of crystal chains connected by brass-colored ties. Other pieces, almond-shaped and octagons, turned up in a box on the back of a shelf. That held the biggest pieces, ovals sparkling as if alive. Several crystals were smooth and translucent, with fissures running through them, crazed with spider-web cracks and cloudy centers. Sable held one large almond-shaped crystal to the light, feeling it emit warmth like the sunlight streaming through the window.

“It’s a rock crystal,” said a deep baritone voice behind her.

Sable jerked and the crystal bobbled and slipped through her fingers. Automatically, she bent to try to catch it, but a large hand was there before her, the crystal landing in the palm.

She stood back as Justus straightened. His eyes were on the crystal in his palm. “Rock crystals are natural stone, cut for chandeliers and such. No two are alike.” His eyes came up to hers, and he had a small smile on his face.

She knew he was tall, but she hadn’t realized the difference in their heights until now. Sable was taller than average, but Justus stood nearly a head taller. She could appreciate that fact with him so near.

He stood looking down at her with impassive and emotionless black eyes that seemed to open into an ebony pit of darkness. He held out the crystal, and she delicately picked it from the palm of his hand. Justus started to speak, hesitated, seemed to think better of it, and then smiled briefly. He turned without speaking and began to walk away.

“You have a lot of these crystals around.” At the sound of her voice, he stopped, but didn’t turn. “Why not set them in the window to catch the sun, like a window-dressing, something to pull in the customers,” she said to his back.

He turned to her, his face hard and still. The facets of the crystals were warmer.

“Or not?” she said in a small voice. “At least it would be kinda pretty.”

Justus glanced at the window, then back at her, hesitating. And then his face softened.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said slowly. His brow furrowed again, then cleared, and he absently touched the chain around his neck. As she watched, Sable thought it was as though he was struggling with something, some emotion.

Then the black eyes came up to hers again.

“I go to auctions,” he said suddenly. “Pick up all kinds of stuff there. Some of it can be real treasures. Sometimes bits and pieces of junk.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s junk, but I got a lot of those crystals at private sales. It’s not overly profitable, but it is interesting.”

And then, like the sun dropping below storm clouds at sunset and shining on the earth for the last hours of the day, he smiled.

Even his black eyes smiled. A little. She couldn’t see where the pupil ended and the iris began. Slowly, it registered on her that she was staring.

Sable shook herself back into reality.

“I’ll do that then, do a bit of…interior decorating? Organizing?”

He nodded. And he was still smiling as he turned back to his office.

She looked at all the crystals and said thoughtfully, “What you need is a way to sell this online.”

He jerked to a stop and turned.

“Know anything about computers?” Justus asked.

“Sure. I took several classes in digital media and designed some web sites.”

His eyes narrowed in thought. “Is that so?”

For the rest of the morning, Sable was up to her elbows—figuratively—in computer language and web site designs. Setting up a template was easy enough. Acquiring inspiration for the layout and design was another thing, involving an idea of the shop’s inventory. She needed to know what was sellable, their potential customers, and the market for antiques. She had most of the information sitting on the oak desk beside the computer in the office. Though he was computer literate, Justus was no geek, and Sable stretched her mental prowess in the field of techno skill and took over his office with some authority when he showed her his newest Dell. Soon, she was lost in search engines and potential domain names.

After setting her up and answering a myriad of questions, Justus sat quietly without interrupting. For a time, she lost herself in the computer world and forgot his presence. When she finally looked up, his expression was puzzled, almost wistful, changed from the cold demeanor earlier.

She started when he gave a low chuckle.

“That keyboard is going to catch on fire.” His raspy voice seemed to come from the back of his throat.

She laughed and Justus laughed with her. His eyes were deep, so alive with emotion, unlike earlier, when his expression had frozen her. Now they were warm, and she felt she could almost fall into them and disappear. For a while, she couldn’t pull away. Her lips parted as she began breathing deeper.