Elfcharm (4 page)

The first time I set foot in this building, I hadn’t trusted the elevator to carry me to the top floor, opting instead to climb the nine flights of stairs up to Corbin’s floor. Now that I was a regular visitor, Corbin had given me a key to the building and to his apartment with a promise that he had enchanted the elevator so that it worked perfectly and I need not worry about plummeting to the ground.

I slid the golden gate closed and pushed the button for the ninth floor. Despite my faith in Corbin’s spells and power, the rickety cage and the whine of the pulleys fighting with the elevator cords set me on edge. I held my breath and counted to thirty with my eyes shut until I felt the cage come to a shuddering halt, a tiny bell ringing out, announcing my arrival. I pushed the gate open and dashed out as quickly as I could manage, blowing out the breath I was holding.

“Yeah, I think I’ll take the stairs from now on,” I muttered. I had thought after I used it a few times that it would begin to warm up and the ride would be smoother eventually, but no, I was definitely wrong about that.

I shook out my hands, white sparks flickering at my fingertips as I did, to try and shake off my nerves from that precarious elevator ride. If I knew who the landlord was, I’d have a word with him about how he treated his building, but I wasn’t an actual resident, so I doubted it would matter if I did. I blew my bangs out of my eyes and set down the hall for Corbin’s door. Although he had the entire floor to himself, he’d chosen the apartment at the very end of the hall so he could have the corner apartment with the most windows.

When I finally reached his door, I didn’t bother to knock. He’d told me I was welcome to come and go as I wished. Corbin was a recluse, having food delivered to him, shipping out his charms and potions; the only time he went outside was to tend his rooftop garden, occasionally taking a cup of tea up there. It explained his golden skin.

I pushed the door open and heard the sounds of jazz music on his record player intermingling with running water from the kitchen. I closed the door behind me, remembering to throw the locks before I tossed my purse on the couch on my way into the kitchen. Corbin’s back was to me as he worked over a batch of some potion, but I was struck immediately by his appearance. It wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, exposing his broad, curving back and shoulders. It wasn’t the fact that I could trace the line of his spine until it disappeared into the low slung waistband of his sweats. He had cut his hair. Those long, curling golden locks were just suddenly gone, exposing his neck and ears. He’d left it a little longer on top than the sides and back, just enough for it to fall over his forehead. He’d taken clippers to the rest, buzzing his hair so short I could see the skin of his scalp.

“You cut your hair?” I demanded, surprising him so much that he dropped the wooden spoon he was using to stir the concoction boiling on the stovetop.

“Jesus,” he swore, catching his breath. “Tare, don’t sneak up on a witch at an open flame.”

“Sorry,” I said, moving into the kitchen to pick up the dropped spoon. Corbin took it from me and tossed it into a plastic bin in the sink full of what I assumed was salt water. The floor had contaminated the spoon and he couldn’t use it again until it was properly cleansed.

“I just can’t believe you did this,” I said, reaching up to run my fingers over the cropped sides of his head, my breath catching at all the memories of me tangling my fingers in his hair to hold on, to pull.

“Don’t like it, huh?” he asked, which made me take a second to look at him rather than just the missing hair. With it shorter, his cheekbones were much more prominent and, truth be told, I could see his brown eyes better now; they were brighter somehow. Even his jaw looked stronger now that the line of his hair wasn’t pulling the eye down.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, feeling the tip of my ponytail shift back and forth. “Actually, it’s really good.”

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow at me like he didn’t believe me.

“Really,” I said. “I was just surprised is all, but it suits you.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, running a hand through the longer part of his hair on top, mussing it in a most endearing way.

“What made you do it?”

“Got tired of it getting in my eyes and in my way while I was trying to work,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug. He took my hand from his head and brought it around to kiss my palm, sending happy little shocks through my arm and into my core as the magic inside of me responded to his foreign witch magic when we touched.

“So, wanna try this again?” he asked, still holding my hand close enough to his face that he rubbed his full, red lips against the tips of my fingers.

“Right,” I said, my voice a little breathy as I watched his mouth. I had always loved Corbin’s mouth; it was always warm, his lips always a deep blood red and full, making me want to claim them whenever I focused on them. I blinked and shook my head a little, pulling my eyes away from his inviting red lips and looked him in the eye. “Hello, Corbin.”

“Hello, Taryn,” he replied, his breath warm against my fingers. His other hand reached out, pressing into the small of my back, pulling me against him. He placed my hand on his shoulder before wrapping that arm around my waist as well, crushing my body to his before his mouth claimed mine. Corbin and I were nearly the same height, making everything we did just a little more intimate than it was with anyone else. His hips were in line with mine, his chest pressed against mine, and I didn’t need to crane my neck to kiss him.

Heat flared in my body, the magic inside of me uncoiling like a snake, slithering through my body, making me sway with the undulating power. I ground my hips into his, feeling his response almost immediately thanks to the thin fabric of his sweats. A noise rumbled in his throat, vibrating against my mouth. His arms tightened around my waist until it was almost difficult to breathe. When I broke the kiss, his teeth caught my lower lip, his tongue running over it before he pulled away. He pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes closed so that the thick line of lashes was a dark swath on his tan cheek. I could see the light of my eyes glowing against his face, just that simple kiss awakening my power, drinking it from his skin, his lips, his heat.

“So,” he said quietly, “what brings you by?”

“Can’t I just come to see you?” I teased, watching when he opened his eyes, our gaze so intense from the closeness of our faces.

“Sure,” he said, lifting his forehead off of mine to look me in the face. “But you didn’t, not this time.” I pursed my lips at him, wondering, not for the first time, if this tricky witch wasn’t just a little bit psychic and hadn’t told me.

“Fine,” I conceded as I took as step back, making his arms slip out from around me. “I was hoping you could help me figure something out.” Corbin took a step back to lean against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he crossed his arms over his wide, firm chest, obscuring part of his Celtic tattoo.

“Something about that necklace?” he asked, inclining his head towards me. My hand went to the chain at my neck before I could stop myself. My hand hovered over where the charm was hidden under my sweater as if I was embarrassed by my reaction.

“Yes,” I finally said, pulling the charm out from my sweater, letting it rest against the black fabric. Corbin beckoned me closer with a crook of his finger. He squinted at the charm, dipping his head down to look at it when I stepped up to him, but his hands remained tucked into his crossed arms.

“You can look at it,” I said, reaching up to unclasp the chain, but Corbin caught my wrists before I could get it undone.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I know what it is; I don’t need to touch it.”

“What’s the matter?” I asked, my arms still up around my neck where he held them.

“That’s your star,” he said, letting go of my wrists. “I’m not sure what would happen if I touched it, but I’d rather not find out.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” I said before the rest of what he said registered with me. “Wait, you know what it is?” I asked in disbelief.

“I wasn’t always a recluse, Taryn.”

“I know, but you’re not Fae.”

“True, but I know about magic,” he said, “and that’s an old magic.”

“Well, good,” I said, suddenly filled with a sense of relief. “Then you can tell me about it.”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, crossing his arms again, his eyes still on the charm.

“But you just said…”

“I know what it is, but that doesn’t mean I know what it can do.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “But maybe if I tell you what’s going on, maybe you can help me figure it out?”

“Maybe,” he nodded. He motioned to the table and chairs behind me, stepping forward to pull a chair out for me, guiding me to sit. Then he went back to the stove and pulled out a new pot, this one stainless steel instead of copper, making it clear which pots were for casting and which were for cooking.

A few minutes later, he was sitting across from me with two steaming cups of hot chocolate between us. Tonight he’d added some salted caramel. I cradled the cup between my hands, letting the warmth seep through the ceramic into my fingers, easing some of the tension I’d been carrying with me.

“So, tell me,” Corbin prompted before taking a sip from his cup. I told him about the green elf who’d insisted on giving me the necklace and how I thought it had saved me during the Moon Madness and the dreams that had followed.

“I’m guessing your main problem with the charm is the dreams, right?” Corbin asked, tap-tapping his fingers on his mug.

“Right,” I nodded. I glanced down, looking into my mug. The hot chocolate was half gone now and more warm than hot.

“Well, you’re right; I’m not Fae, so I don’t really understand all of the different magics. I don’t even really understand yours,” he said, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Oh, I think you understand mine well enough.”

“Well, sure,” he agreed, “I understand where you take your power from and I understand your ability to transmit that energy into bolts of power manifested in a sort of electrical current, but I don’t understand how you do that. Taking power to feed your magic from life giving energy, sure, I get that. But the bolts? No, I don’t get that.”

“It’s just my energy channeled into an outlet,” I said with a shrug. “Sex and lust give me power; this is how I can use it, and how I unload it other than just living off of it.”

“Sure, but it’s not something I can do, so I can only understand the basic fundamentals of it. But back to the matter at hand: the charm.”

“Right.”

“What is it that you want me to do?”

“I thought maybe you could cast on it, check it for enchantments.”

“You think the elf was lying to you?”

“I don’t know if he was.”

“But you want to know now.”

“Yes,” I said, pushing my empty cup away from me. “If it’s just some powerful Fae charm with wild magic in it, reminding me where my people came from and how far away from that I am now, fine, but if that green-eyed elf lied to me and is using it, trying to draw me to him, I’ll kill him.” Sparks ignited from my fingers to underscore my words.

“Very well,” Corbin said, picking up both cups before he stood and setting them on the counter, out of the way. He covered the pot he’d been working on and turned the burner off. He gathered a few items and turned back to the table and began to lay everything out.

First was a swatch of soft leather covered in designs I didn’t recognize, then a small silver bowl and a few pouches. He leaned over me and reached to unclasp the necklace, his lips brushing against my cheek as he did so. A soft smile curled my lips as I looked up into his face when he pulled away.

Careful to only touch the fairy floss and not the charm, he set the charm in the silver bowl and then began to sing, softly, in a language I didn’t know. The words swirled in the air, building power around us until an invisible breeze drifted through the room, lifting the tips of my hair. Corbin added pinches of different colored powder, his voice pitching in volume with each puff of smoke or burst of light, but he never stumbled over a verse. The song ended on a long, mournful note. Corbin turned those rich brown eyes on me.

“It’s not enchanted,” he said, almost sadly.

“Hmm,” I said, feeling my eyebrows arch as I looked into the little silver bowl. “But it is magical.”

“Oh yes, very powerful in fact,” Corbin said as he began to clean up the spelling supplies. I started to reach for the charm, but he picked it up first and dunked it in the vat of saltwater before handing it to me. Heat flushed my cheeks when I realized how hasty I had been, wanting the necklace back.

“These dreams,” I started to say, staring down at the charm in my cupped hand.

“They bother you that much?” Corbin asked, putting his back to the counter again.

“Yes, they do,” I said with a nod.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” I looked up at him. “When I wake up from them I feel so,” I struggled to find the right word, “empty.”

“Why empty?”

“In the dream, I feel more alive than I ever do unless I’m with one of you,” I said, gesturing to him. “But day to day,” I shook my head, “life is very mundane. I don’t feel much like an elf, let alone a Bright Elf.”

“What is it about the dream that makes you feel so alive?” Corbin asked.

“I’m not really sure,” I said. “My parents’ generation assimilated with the human world, so I’ve always lived here, in this city. I have no memories of living in a forest, communing with animals and nature.”

“So you’re having dreams of what life was like for elves before you came here,” he said.

“Yes, and they’re so beautiful, so,” I struggled for the right words, “so peaceful and right.”

“Taryn,” Corbin said, his voice heavy, and I got the feeling he was almost afraid to say what he was about to. “Maybe you just miss a life you never got to have. Maybe something inside of you wants to go there.”

“I’ve never felt like that before,” I argued. “How do I know the elf isn’t trying to trick me?”

“Could be,” he agreed with a nod. “I suppose we could try and find out.”