Double-Sided Witch (Covencraft Book 3) (16 page)

“Paris? What the hell?” Jade rubbed at one of her eyes and then tugged at her t-shirt, pulling it down further.

“I should ask the same of you.”

“What?”

“What are you doing here?” Paris hands were deep in his coat pockets and looking at him she got the impression of a border collie waiting for something - a direction, an order, a sheep to make a break for it. He was coiled energy ready to spring.

“Packing.” Jade gestured in the mad and clumsy way of a person just out of bed.

Paris opened his mouth for a rebuttal and then, peering past her to the boxes she had strewn about, he stopped. “Oh. So you are.” He deflated a little, his shoulders dropping. He shuffled his feet. “May I come in?”

Jade swung her arm wide again and he stepped past her. Her brain felt muddled and fuzzy, still ringing from her dream with Lily. She tried to focus on Paris instead. “It’s seven in the morning, English? Are we under attack? Is this a fight?”

“We couldn’t find you. No one knew where you were. We were worried. I thought - ” He hesitated, his eyes darting away quickly and then back. “I thought perhaps you meant to leave the Coven.”

Jade blinked, surprised. It hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would notice she was gone, let alone that they might think she was leaving. “Why would I leave the Coven?”

“Well.” Paris dug his hands deeper into coat pockets, as though he needed them to be doing something and that gesture would suffice. “I know it’s not been easy for you and it seems as though lately, things have… been more unsettled.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “But I sort of live there now.” Okay, it wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but she was impressed she managed to get that many words out with the sleep debt she’d been accumulating and the late night she’d spent packing up boxes.

Paris again shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We didn’t know where you’d gone and then, when we did know, we weren’t sure why.”

“Are you using ‘we’ in the royal sense of the word, meaning just you?” Her brain-to-mouth filter was still not all the way awake.

Paris leveled her with a look, his blue eyes intense and sharp. Jade rubbed her nose, unaffected. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a legitimate question. You like the third person and I can’t tell when you mean it versus when you’re just being English.”

“I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours.” His tone told her everything she needed to know about his mental state.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to put some actual apology into the word. She managed to sound a little regretful, she hoped. “You could have called.”

“I did. There was no answer on your cell phone and when I tried this number, the phone company said your line was disconnected.”

Jade rolled her eyes. “You know it takes those fascists three weeks to set the thing up, but they can cut the line as soon as you ask to cancel it. Crooks.” She looked around and spied her cell phone sitting on the floor, face down next to a box. She bent over and picked it up. Dead. Oops.

“I didn’t know it died,” Jade said, wagging it in the air, feeling sheepish. She glanced around at the mess of the apartment. “And I’m not sure where the charger is.”

Jade watched Paris look around at the boxes, packing tape, packing paper and the remainder of her things strewn about. He tried valiantly to stifle a yawn, his face screwing up comically as he did.

“You need a nap? You could sleep on the couch,” Jade offered. They both looked at the couch. It was short and a little lumpy. Jade knew from experience, it wasn’t comfortable for napping. Paris looked at her dubiously and she winced. “Yeah, it’s about as comfortable as it looks.”

“What about breakfast?” he asked.

She blinked back at him. “What about it?” 

A ghost of a smile curled his lips. “If you like, I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“I never turn down free food,” Jade answered easily. “Okay, let me just,” she gestured down at herself, “get this presentable.”

Back in the bedroom, she had to rummage around in half-packed boxes but found a warm, fuzzy sweater and leggings. She didn’t know where her boots were, but she knew she saw a pair of runners last night. They weren’t really appropriate for winter, but they would do. She’d been living out of her suitcase for so long at the Coven, she felt spoiled for choice knowing she could pick anything from these boxes. She yanked her hair back into a ponytail, wondering if she could get away without any makeup. She really didn’t feel up to facing the mirror.

She poked around in her purse and used her compact to apply some blush and mascara. It was enough to make her look alive. Mostly.

Coming back out into the living room, Jade saw Paris peering carefully at some of the boxes. She didn’t mind as much as she thought she might.

“You’re close to being packed up then?” he asked.

Jade shrugged. “I guess so.”

“What about your furniture?”

“My landlord and I worked out a deal where I don’t have to pay the fine for breaking my lease if he can keep the place furnished and rent out as is.” She sighed and looked around. “It’s a total rip off in the long run, but it’s not like I’m married to any of this stuff and the cottage at the Coven is furnished. Plus I can’t be bothered to figure out what else to do with it.”

Paris nodded at her. “I came by train and haven’t a car. I assume you know some place we can dine?”

Jade smirked. “You trust me with that kind of power? I’ve got a cheap palate.”

“Breakfast is difficult for most places to bastardize.”

“You say that now…” She let her sentence dangle playfully as she led the way out of her apartment.

Jade took him to the local greasy spoon. The walls were done in dark wood paneling, with the windows tinted to keep out the bright morning sun. It gave the entire place a dark, cave-like feel. A row of video lottery terminals were lined up against one wall, on the side of the restaurant that was presumably a lounge later in the day.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Jade said, as she slid into a small booth and Paris took the other side, “but the food is good, the prices are cheap and it’s impeccably clean. It’s just old.”

A waitress came by and automatically filled their coffee cups, dropping off some creamers on the table. Jade ordered off the top of her head, not bothering with a menu and was a little surprised when Paris did the same, opting for waffles with whipped cream.

“I forgot about your sweet tooth,” Jade said after the waitress left. She watched Paris put four sugar packets in his coffee. Her teeth hurt just looking at it and thinking about him eating waffles after that. The coffee was so dark, she had to add three creamers before it turned a creamy beige shade. She watched Paris carefully, waiting for him to try it.

He took a careful sip and then coughed. “That is some coffee.”.

Jade grinned. “It’ll put hair on your chest.” She took a generous gulp, rolling the almost smoky taste around in her mouth.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t do the same for you.” He fiddled with his cup and she felt nervous and tense watching him. He had his ‘serious’ face on.

“Jade…” Paris began. His tone made her want to bolt. “You know you’re part of the Coven, don’t you?”

Oh, shit. Was this some kind of trick question? Jade knew she was part of the Coven - she was a witch and witches belonged in Covens. Okay, so she wasn’t born into the Coven like everyone else, but Paris, Callie, Henri, heck even Daniel and Josef, had all been working hard at toeing the party line - Jade belonged at the Coven, whether the Coven wanted her there or not. Mostly the other witches seemed to kind of lean toward ‘indifferent’ or ‘not.’ Whatever.

“Um, yeah?” Crap, even she could tell that came out as a question.

Paris winced. “I know I’ve not done the best job of bringing you into the fold, but I hope you don’t feel too separate from us.”

Jade’s eyes darted around, hoping for some kind of a distraction. Waitress coming back with refills, new patrons coming in, grease fire - she wasn’t picky. The restaurant was quiet. Dammit. 

“You got me a house, a job and I went to your Coven Ball thingy. I know I’m part of the group.”

Paris took another careful sip of his coffee and then eyed sugar packets, like he wanted to add another one. “I’m concerned that you didn’t feel it necessary to tell anyone you were leaving.”

Jade narrowed her eyes. “Do I have to report in on where I’m going?” Suspicion curled in her gut.

“No, not at all. I’m just…” His voice trailed off and he sighed. “I just want to ensure you feel you belong with us.”

Ugh. Feelings. Jade shrugged. “Okay. Sure.” She could tell he wasn’t thrilled with her answer. His lips thinned out and he looked grim. God, was he going to keep harping on this? She didn’t know what else to say.

Paris exhaled sharply, watching her, his eyes bright and so blue. Jade tore at her napkin, leaving long trails of thin paper on the table.

“How much more work do you think it will be packing?”

Jade’s stomach unclenched. Subject dropped, thank God. Breakfast was slightly stilted but not as bad as it could have been. Jade had some questions about spells she was looking at and although she had terrific recall for printed material, Paris didn’t like going into too many details without seeing the books himself. It seemed to make him squirrelly that she could remember them so well - not that she would ever use that word in front of him. Sometimes she wondered what he thought. As if she would just blurt out some kind of spell while they were at a diner and bring the whole place to rubble. She felt a few times like he wanted to ask her something. He would pause and there would be an air of expectation in their conversation, but then he would only ask after something at Counter-Magic or Bruce’s habits.

After breakfast, Jade put him to work packing up her apartment, which Paris seemed to find amusing. She had several boxes already sealed shut and she unceremoniously pointed to a stack in the corner and told him to put it in her car, handing him the keys and rattling off her license plate so he could find it in the parking garage. He must have been successful because he was back in her apartment a few minutes later taking another set of boxes down. Jade tried not to think as she worked, instead focusing on spatial relations - how many books would fit? Could she put this triangular shaped thing-y in with them? Was this box too heavy? She packed up books, knick-knacks, clothing, more books, odds and ends and a few coffee mugs, working like an automaton.
Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think
. It felt like saying goodbye and she hadn’t had anyone or anything to say goodbye to in such a long time. Not since she lost Lily. She cracked her neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension she could feel atrophying her muscles.

“Are you all right?”

Jade looked up from where she knelt on the ground to see Paris standing half in, half out of the doorway, a box of books in his arms. She nodded. “Yeah, just…packing sucks, you know.”

He shifted the box and eyed her speculatively. “Is that all?”

She had a sudden urge to blurt her crazy words at him.
Hey, I know this will sound nuts, but an entire other person used to share this body with me and then she left, and now I think she might be back. Only I can’t really tell and I don’t know who I can ask because I don’t think anyone’s ever had this problem. I can’t talk about how she left, and I don’t even want to talk about when she used to be here because it makes me feel sick and empty. Like you know when you’ve forgotten to eat and you’re so hungry you think you might vomit, even though you don’t have anything in there? It feels like that. Any advice? No, really, I’m not crazy. You’re probably worried about the demon grimoires you left with me, but I swear they’re totally safe. 

Jade swallowed hard, forcing the words back. “That box must be heavy.” She pointed uselessly at the one he was holding.

Paris didn’t seem to mind the weight, shifting it again, coming back into the apartment and watching her with careful eyes. “It’s not all that bad,” he said. He paused, seeming to steal himself and then added, “I’ve not been carrying it long. Sometimes when you carry things for a long time, they seem heavier than they are. They can be hard to put down.”

Her throat was tight and she blinked a few times, surprised by the sudden flood of moisture in her eyes. She looked away from him and as she did, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass panel of the TV stand. In that moment, it was like there were two of her in the room with Paris. She couldn’t look away from the image of herself, doubled.

“Sometimes when you put something down, you can’t pick it back up again. It would have been better to never stop carrying it.” She watched her reflection open her mouth and speak, watched the slight way her head and body moved as she talked.

“Maybe you need some help carrying it.”

The room was heavy and thick and she wanted to close her eyes, to look away from the glass surface of the TV case, but she felt stuck, unable to turn. There was a muffled roaring sound in her ears, viscid and soupy, like there was something in her ears.

Like she was underwater.

Paris said her name and it was far away, as though he were down a long, thin tunnel, speaking to her from a distance. There was a taut vertigo pulling at her and she knew if she just let go, if she just followed it, she would be dragged under. Or maybe something else would rise up around her, surrounding her. She felt a tug somewhere inside her and she wanted to pull against it, instinctively, like yanking a booted foot out of thick mud on a rainy day. There was so much pressure. Two sides of her pulling against one another.