Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series) (9 page)

BOOK: Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series)
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We stumbled towards my bedroom, tugging at our clothes and dropping them as we clung to each other, barely able to pull away as we left his shirt, my sweater, and our jeans, in our wake. In my bedroom, I placed one hand against his chest and lightly pushed him onto my bed. He lifted himself onto his elbows to watch me. Wordlessly, I stood in front of him until he held one hand out to me and I took it, stepping between his legs as he pulled me on top of him.

"Do you want this?" Gage asked, sounding as though he regretted asking me.

I held his hand, my free one cupping the side of his face. He nuzzled my palm and closed his eyes. "Yes," I whispered and his eyes flew open. "More than anything."

"Oh fuck, Stella... fuck. Brace yourself." Tangled in his arms, he flipped us so that I landed under him. I pulled his head to mine, losing myself in his kiss as we shed the last of our garments. Finally, I wrapped my legs around him and found the solace I needed in his fervent body.

His heat ricocheted through me, making his kisses more vibrant and laced with the longing I felt. The world and its problems vanished in that moment of time. All I wanted was Gage, and how I felt now, with our bodies joined, slick with a sheen of perspiration as our passion reached heights I formerly tried very hard never to imagine.

I kissed him, and clung to him, pulling him closer and whispering his name as he murmured his pleasure. In the early hours, with a cry, Gage took me over the edge, to the point where the world blurred and every sense in my body fired. With a shout of his own, Gage collapsed against me, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his breath cool against my hot skin.

We slept, our bodies entwined; when upon waking, we repeated those glorious moments until the late morning. At long last, with sated appetites, we took each other one more time. Slowly, gently, familiar with every part of each other now, and knowing exactly how to touch, love, and please each other, we did so until the last of our energy was spent.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

"Earth to Stella? Hello?!! Are you listening?" The exasperated tone of Seren's voice pulled me back into the moment and I bolted upright, almost sliding off my desk chair in the process.

"Hi! Yes, I'm listening."

"Yeah, sure you are! I don't think you heard a word I said for the past ten minutes."

"I have!" I protested.

"Sure. All you've said is 'uh-huh' and 'yup' and 'yeah'. Do you even know that you just agreed to ride an elephant as it swam across the ocean? What is wrong with you? You're so distracted," Seren sighed and I cringed and then yawned. Yes, I was distracted. It wasn't just from the lack of sleep, it was what caused the lack of sleep... or, more precisely, who. Even though I agreed to the catch-up call with Seren, I could barely concentrate. I wasn't even all that sure how I got to my desk. It seemed like I was going through the usual motions like an automaton, somehow arriving in my chair with the phone stuck to my ear. "I'm tired," I said, choosing the path of least explanation. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's okay. You should have said. I know you've been busy with Annalise's baby and then finding that guy..." Seren trailed off as I vaguely recalled asking her advice. Or did I? I yawned again, wondering if I'd simply imagined part of our conversation. "I can call later," she finished. "Maybe you should take a nap."

"No, it's fine. I'm fine, really. You were saying...?"

"I was saying that I consulted David and Astra; and we've been looking through some spell books and I think we can pull together some kind of spell to recreate that torn note."

Blinking, I took a deep breath, willing myself to get it together. This was important and I needed to pay attention and not think about the heat of Gage's...
Pay attention!
I told myself sternly, blinking away the mental picture. "The whole thing?" I asked, hoping my voice was steadier.

"Well..." Seren sounded less certain. "I really don't know until we try it. I've never needed to do anything like that before, and David and Astra both have their own ideas about spellcraft and innate magic that might work. We're going to write a few notes, rip them up, and then burn the pieces to see what kind of spell produces the best results."

I sat up a little straighter, growing hopeful now as Seren outlined her plan. "That sounds great!"

"Don't get your hopes up. It might not even work. How about I call you in a day or two, after we've perfected it?"

"I'd really appreciate that. You can reach me here any time." I paused, remembering the tentative plans I made with Gage to travel north to find out more about Kevin Wyatt. Though the trip wasn’t mentioned when Gage kissed me goodbye this morning, a lingering, uncertain, and desirous kiss, I had to assume it was still on. Where that left Gage and me was a different matter. Our friendship had irrevocably changed after our night together. I didn't even get a chance to collect my thoughts and process them. Did I want to chase down the dead werewolf's story? Yes, absolutely. I wanted to know what the man wanted; and even though Seren and her husband and sister were working one angle, heading to Wyatt's hometown was another important lead to follow. "Actually, can you call my cell phone? I might be on the road."

"Taking another trip? Stella, you are becoming quite the traveler. Where are you going?"

"Just north," I said, purposefully sounding vague. The last thing I wanted to do was get into a lengthy explanation, especially when I didn't even know what to say. "Just for a few days."

"Maybe you can come visit if you pass by this way?" Seren suggested hopefully. "We would love that. It's been too long. I know David would love to see you, and Astra too. She says you were nice to her when you went to the city."

I smiled at that because any praise was good, and I was glad Astra thought I was nice to her. It didn't take much. Once I'd gotten over my worries, and after spending a little time with her, I could see there was a nice person underneath the fragile exterior. Since I was good friends with her sisters, it would be nice to be friends with her too. Would that happen? I found myself hoping so. "I'll try. I don't know the details yet."

"Plus, you could bring the note and we can try the spell for real. Call me and let me know? Hey, David's calling and I think I'm wanted in the shop. You still have two weeks of vacation so don't even think about checking in on the website. Astra has it covered."

We said our goodbyes and I set the phone on the desk. There were several thick stacks of paper and my laptop screen was blank. I couldn't concentrate on work, and it was a relief that I didn't have to. As Seren pointed out, I still had two weeks of vacation. Really, I didn't have to do a thing. I could take the whole time to freak out about Gage if I needed to.

However, I really intended to concentrate on anything but Gage; otherwise, the magnitude of what occurred between us could overwhelm me, not to mention, the myriad questions floating around in my head.
What did this mean for our friendship? Would it ruin it? Or turn it into something more?
Gage never implied he wanted anything more, and neither did I, but at one time, he definitely did and I seriously considered it too. Did he feel the same now? Or differently?

A more pressing question was: did my moving on with someone else
represent the final hurdle in forgetting Evan? If so, why did it still smart whenever I thought of the beautiful demon who behaved so familiarly with him? Having never broken up with someone, or having another lover beyond my first, it was all new and daunting. Worse still, it made my mind feel like thick fog.

I needed distraction, not contemplation. I had to focus on the note that was stolen before I got a chance to read its contents. Stabbing my forefinger at the keyboard, the computer sprang to life, and it irked me that I still felt I should be seeking more information on the demons, too. In my mind loomed the heavy thought that Evan made clear when he turned away from me, indicating I wasn't welcome. I had to assume I was no longer his friend, and force myself to accept his refusal of my help. It was a very real possibility that I wasted months of my life looking for a way to save him from his own species, when he already made a choice to align with them. Evan Hunter did not need saving.

"Damn it!" I yelled, picking up a pen and hurling the unlucky thing across the room. It hit a window pane and clattered to the floor. A second later, I called it to my palm and threw it again so that it hit the same spot. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as lifting everything in the room and hurling it all together, but I restrained myself. "Evan Hunter does not need help!" I yelled at the unfortunate window pane before grimacing at my reflection. Unfortunately, the stillness in the room had no answer to my demon dilemma, so I shut the lid on the laptop, and walked into the kitchen to make myself a drink, distracting myself in the smallest way possible.

As I set the tea kettle to boil, I reached for the envelope, now innocuously pinned to my fridge. Just as Seren hoped to recreate the letter within, what if I could get a psychic hit from the scrap? Psychic hits had happened to me before, although not when I first handled the fragment. It wasn't something I had much control over yet, and I hadn't found time to practice the skill. I mentally admonished myself for that oversight.

I took the torn envelope down and sat at the small kitchen table with it, holding the fragment in both hands. The portion of my name remaining was written neatly in cursive, using black ink, with slim loops to the “l”s. I noted that my first name was the abbreviation I preferred to go by, rather than my full name of Estrella. That didn't tell me much. Everyone knew me as Stella so it wasn't a surprise that a stranger would use it; although it could suggest it wasn't anything official, or that the sender was not awed enough to be formal. The envelope was heavyweight, but didn't bear any postmarks or other clues to indicate where it came from. I flipped it over and was unsurprised to find there was no return address. Next, I popped it open and shook it, but nothing fell out.

"You can do this," I told myself, focusing on the envelope. I hoped for a hit on the owner of the writing, or maybe something to do with Kevin Wyatt; but after several long minutes, nothing came. There wasn't even the hint of a spell disguising it. No, this envelope and its contents had not been magicked in any way. But… was Kevin Wyatt?

When the kettle whistled, I returned the envelope to the fridge door, took the kettle off the boil, and made a cup of tea with a heaped spoon of sugar, before returning to the sunroom, feeling rather incompetent and frustrated.

By noon, I accomplished nothing productive whatsoever, and instead, wasted my time checking to be sure my cell phone had bars before half-heartedly reading through paperwork from a couple of boxes marked "Notable News."
The dates were scratched off, and they appeared while I was distracting myself in the kitchen. A couple of times, I realised my eyes were drooping and my yawns were becoming more frequent. Just as I was debating whether I should follow Seren's advice and take a nap, the phone rang, making me jump.

"I'm sending the list now," said
Étoile when I answered.

"Hello to you," I said through a stifled yawn. "What list?"

"The names I need you to check into for any connection to Georgia Thomas. Can you look over them now?"

"I guess." I yawned again.

"I'll make sure you're compensated. I need the answers today. Can you do that?"

"I..." I started to reply, somewhat surprised at how abrupt
Étoile sounded.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," she cut in. "It's the High Council..."

"Say no more," I assured her. "Get me the list and I'll check every name."

"I can't help thinking something is on the cusp of happening," she said. That surprised me, not only because of the resignation in her voice, but also her sudden
confiding. "Georgia is too quiet. The Brotherhood are quiet. Our meeting with the wolves this morning was amicable, so that's something..."

"Isn't that good news?"

"I wish it were. I wish I knew what they were planning. Maybe the damn wolves are too quiet too."

"You know that paranoia thing."

Étoile gave a short laugh. "I know..."

"Maybe things are finally coming together. Maybe everyone has finally learned that we need to work together for our own protection."

"Oh Stella... What died on your doorstep recently?"

"Yeah, okay. You got me. All the quiet is weird, but Gage found out who that werewolf was."

"Any surprises?"

"No, nothing that stands out. Gage told me he was Canadian and
not ranked in his clan. He didn't seem to have any connection to Wilding, so there's no reason he came here other than to see me. We still don't know how he got here..." I paused, thinking about it. Gage hadn't told me all that much. "At least, Gage didn't tell me if he found out."

"Leave it to Gage. They're his people."

"This guy came to see me," I pointed out, musing over the purpose of the visit again as I thought of Gage's words. Was I really the linch pin that connected so much? "I need to find out what he wanted to give me. Maybe it was something to give to you."

"Now is not the time for you to interfere in anything to do with..."

"I'm not interfering!"

"We're at a delicate point in the High Council negotiations, Stella. Anything, I mean, anything could go against us. I can't risk that. I need you to focus on the task I assigned to you. That's important."

I pulled a face, glad we weren't on a video call. "Did you email the list?" I asked after a moment's silence.

"It's going to appear. Make a note of it."

Before I could ask what Étoile meant, the air in front of me, approximately the size of a sheet of paper, began to fizzle. Within seconds, I could make out several names floating in the air. I grabbed my pen and the fresh notepad on my desk and scrawled the names. Just as I added the last name, the names swooshed apart and the air was exactly as it was before. I couldn't resist poking my finger where they'd been. Nothing.

"Got them," I said before
Étoile could check up on me. "I'll start now."

"Good and don't forget: stay out of... Who is it? Clare? Gotta go. Thanks, Stella." The phone hung up and I breathed a sigh of relief. If
Étoile hadn't outright forbidden me to get involved with the werewolf business, she could hardly complain when I did. Taking a trip to find out more hardly counted as interfering, I decided, trying not to feel sneaky. So I couldn't help Evan. I could help Étoile; and my gut feeling told me that werewolf could have wanted me to pass on the note to her. But, I reminded myself, all that supposition was useless without knowing more. Like Étoile said, we could be on the cusp of something.

Unfortunately, when it came to the investigation task
Étoile assigned me, I came up with nothing. Several hours of searching through the records and ancestry books provided no connection between any of the witches on her list and Georgia Thomas. They didn't even appear to share any common ancestry. Two had grown up in the same state, but none had a schooling connection. All of them attended my trial — that was easy to find out, thanks to Council records — but they didn't appear to have spent any time together. They only stayed in the hotel part of The Amethyst when we'd gone into lockdown. As far as connections went, it was tenuous at best, and I didn't think Étoile would be pleased. I was also surprised she didn't ask her assistant to run down this information.
Perhaps,
I surmised,
it was a distraction
; and then I wondered why she would do that.

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