Laced With Magic (3 page)
“I figured we needed all the help we could get.”
No argument there.
I made it to the edge of the clearing and found a non-muddy area where I could leave the car without worrying about it sinking into the mire.
“Can I take the blindfold off now,” Luke asked, “or is it part of the fun?”
“Keep it on,” I said, trying to get into a dominatrix groove. “Put your hands on my waist and follow me.”
“You’re good at this,” he said as I carefully led him deeper into the woods. “What other talents have you been hiding?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
His hands slipped from my waist to my hips. His broad fingers splayed down over my belly and then reached lower. I stumbled, then caught myself. His chuckle was deliciously dirty.
“Okay,” I said. “Now you can take off the blindfold.”
“You’d better be naked.”
“Take off the blindfold and see.”
He did and the look of wonder in his eyes made me laugh out loud. “What the hell—?” He glanced over at me. “Is this some kind of magic trick?”
I raised my hands in the air. “No tricks. Nothing up my sleeve.”
“Where the hell have you been hiding this?”
“Three miles east of my cottage as the crow flies but you’d never find it if you didn’t know where to look.”
He whistled low. “Sugar Maple knows how to keep its secrets.”
Which, of course, was an understatement. Nature had done a good job of hiding the Sinzibukwud Falls from nosy tourists and other interlopers, and over the centuries the residents of Sugar Maple had managed to keep it that way. Jagged slashes of granite, darkened almost black with time, provided the backdrop for the sixty-foot plunge of water.
“Sinziwhat?” Luke asked.
“
Sinzibukwud
was the Indian name for ‘maple sugar,’ ” I told Luke as we walked closer to the falling water. “The native people believed they were closer to their ancestors here than anywhere else. Bet you don’t have anything like this in Boston.”
Sinzibukwud
was the Indian name for ‘maple sugar,’ ” I told Luke as we walked closer to the falling water. “The native people believed they were closer to their ancestors here than anywhere else. Bet you don’t have anything like this in Boston.”
“Not even close,” he said.
During Sugar Maple’s early years, local artists and needle-workers and craftsmen had immortalized the Falls, but interest had waned over the years. Now we kept the tumbling waters as an attraction known only to villagers. We had enough on our collective plate trying to control tourists who came to Sugar Maple for the shopping.
There was no denying the power of the place. I don’t know if it was all that tumbling water, the lush vegetation, the craggy rocks, or something else, but my entire body was tingling with anticipation. I have to admit I’d never been a big fan of the Falls. Sure, I could see they’d be a huge attraction if we ever went public, but there was something too overwhelming about the place for my taste, as if the power unleashed by the force of the water was about to break free and take us all with it. When the sun hit the Falls from a certain angle, they took on a living quality that got under my skin and made me want to be anywhere else.
But Luke loved it, as I’d hoped he would, and I was all about anything that would keep him here with me forever. He crouched down in front of an outcropping of rock, staring intently at the formation. I watched, fascinated, as he drew his forefinger along the vertical cleft.
“So you’re an outdoors boy,” I said as he examined another odd formation. “Who knew?”
“These rocks have faces,” he said with a slightly sheepish grin. “I thought the damn thing was going to bite me.”
“You’re probably one of those kids who saw elephants and angels in the clouds.”
“You weren’t?” he asked.
“I grew up in Sugar Maple,” I reminded him. “There really
were
elephants and angels in the clouds.”
were
elephants and angels in the clouds.”
“Look at that formation.” He pointed to an imposing outcropping. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it slid open and revealed a whole other world.”
“Too many video games,” I said with a laugh. “I know it’s hard to believe, considering this is Sugar Maple and all, but those are just rocks.”
Human males are fascinating creatures. No matter how old they get, the little boy never goes away. “This place is incredible.”
“I thought you’d like it.” I angled him a smile. “Legend has it this was a busy lover’s lane way back when.”
He drew me close and I nuzzled against his neck, drinking in his warmth and human essence. “Did you ever come up here with anyone?”
I knew this was one of those times when a lie was the right way to go, but I was only half human and opted for the truth instead.
“Once,” I said, watching his expression. “With Gunnar.”
“I thought you two never—”
“We didn’t,” I broke in quickly, “but we hung out together in high school.” And gave love a try a few times over the years of our friendship but never made it past exploratory kissing.
A little muscle in his jaw twitched. It might as well have been a neon sign flashing overhead. Gunnar’s death continued to haunt us in so many ways. My dear friend had loved me enough to save Luke’s life at the cost of his own, and that selfless act was the five-hundred-pound gorilla we pretended wasn’t sitting there next to us every single day.
I felt guilty that my happiness had come at the expense of a treasured friend’s existence in this realm. Gunnar’s friendship had been a constant in my life for as long as I could remember, and I had believed with my entire heart and soul that he would continue to be part of my life until it was my time to pierce the veil.
And Luke? I knew his feelings about Gunnar were all wrapped up with gratitude, jealousy, and the human male’s need to be the hero of his own story. Not an easy mix for a man who was making his way in a very different world from the one he’d left behind.
I reached for the blindfold dangling from his hand. “Put it back on,” I said, spinning it around my index finger. “I have another surprise.”
The shadows lifted and he flashed me the grin I loved. “I have a better idea. You put it on.”
My skin registered his heat and I couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure. I loved his warm skin, his hot kisses. I had been drawn to his warmth from the beginning.
Excitement snaked up my spine, followed swiftly by a long, dark ripple of anticipation. My human blood ran hot for him.
“Slow down,” he whispered in my ear as he slid the mask over my eyes. “We want this to last.”
Forever sounded just about right.
TOWN HALL—LATER THAT EVENINGMaybe if I hadn’t been in the sensual haze that followed great sex, I would have seen the signs, but a few hours after our blistering lovemaking at the waterfall, I still wasn’t thinking straight.
See the pattern here? I wasn’t thinking at all. I was still pure sensation.
“You look awfully smug for a Wednesday night,” Janice said as she joined me near the snack table. She owned the hair salon across the street from Sticks & Strings and was one of my closest friends. “Does it have anything to do with that trip you and the human made to the waterfall?”
They say that in times of extreme danger your entire life passes in front of your eyes, and that was what happened to me, except in most of the scenes I was doing things that could get me arrested.
“Don’t look so horrified!” Janice gave me a quick pat on the arm. “I didn’t see anything. The spell you cast around the two of you worked too darn well.”
I flashed back to some of the juicier moments, especially the one that included a big, hard rock, a blindfold, and both of us half-naked. “Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere normal like Philadelphia.”
Janice threw back her head and laughed out loud. “Honey, you’d never make it through the day in Philly. Too many humans. You’re one of us now.”
Meaning my destiny was here in Sugar Maple and always would be. I guess she felt I needed to be reminded of that fact. My half-human blood would always mark me as different.
I poured myself another cup of coffee and debated whether or not this was a sugar-and-cream kind of night. Lynette Pendragon, whose shapeshifting family owned the Sugar Maple Arts Playhouse, popped up next to me. Before my powers kicked in, I would have sworn she was a ringer for Cathe rine Zeta-Jones. Now when I looked at her, I saw a pretty, dark-haired, middle-aged woman and not a movie goddess. It was one of the trade-offs that came with the magick and it still required an adjustment on my part.
“Did you tell her?” she said to Janice.
“I thought we weren’t—”
“You can’t let her be blindsided by—”
I didn’t like the sound of this. “Somebody tell me something and fast,” I demanded. “The meeting’s about to begin.”
“We were sworn to secrecy,” Lynette said, her voice little more than a whisper, “but Colm Weaver has been trying to put together a committee to find a candidate for chief of police.”
“Luke is our candidate.”
“Luke is
your
candidate,” Janice pointed out, “which means he’s not theirs.”
your
candidate,” Janice pointed out, “which means he’s not theirs.”
Resentment from the Fae within the community had grown exponentially since I banished Isadora from this realm. I didn’t have the power to end her existence since the Fae didn’t die in the mortal sense. They moved from dimension to dimension over more human years than we can count until their essence finally faded and they were absorbed into the greater community of ancestors. They were mercurial, occasionally loving, frequently devious, and few beings in any dimension ever bested them. The fact that I had managed to ban Isadora from the human plane was a victory by anyone’s standards. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the Weavers were working against me, but I’d hoped a lifetime of friendship would count for something.
“If you’re going to install Luke as the permanent chief, you’d better do it fast,” Lynette warned. “They’re moving more quickly than anyone would have anticipated.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it tonight.”
They exchanged glances.
“I didn’t mean that fast,” Lynette said.
“Why not?” I shot back. “According to our town charter, I can appoint officials to key positions without putting it to a vote. Luke is here. He understands how to work with the bureaucrats. He already knows our secrets and he’s proved himself trustworthy.”
“Have you talked to him about staying on?” Janice asked.
“Not yet,” I admitted, “but I’m sure he’ll sign on again.”
We were in love. We were happy. What more could he want?
“Watch out for Colm tonight,” Lynette said sotto voce. “Cyrus heard him talking about Luke at Fully Caffeinated this morning and it wasn’t good.”
The truth is I’m not big on confrontation and I was starting to wonder if I was in for a major one tonight. I can hold my own in a fight, but for the most part when I sense trouble brewing, my natural inclination is to reach for the Chips Ahoy and wait for the storm to blow over. The vibes in the room were making me think longingly of the emergency bag I had stashed away at the yarn shop. That and a bucket of Ben & Jerry might get me through.
“The natives are getting restless,” Janice observed. “You’d better start on time this month.”
“I started on time last month but Simone was doing a Welcome to Spring pole dance on the lawn and nobody heard me.”
Simone was a sultry spirit who had a way of attracting attention even when she was dematerialized.
“The Souderbushes are here,” Lynette observed. “And the Harrises. That will help. They love Luke.”
As if on cue, we all turned to look across the room at him. He was standing near the open side door, talking anima tedly with the Griggs boys. Judging by his hand gestures, he was probably saying something rude about the New York Yankees.
“Isn’t that the sweater you knitted for him?” Lynette asked.
“That’s the one.”
“You’re not afraid—”
“Not even a little bit. I can’t believe you buy into those old knitter’s superstitions.”
“Firsthand experience,” Janice said. “I made my first boyfriend a sweater. He broke up with me the next day.”
“Handknits scare them more than ‘I love you.’” Lynette shook her head. “Cyrus didn’t call me for two months after I made him a cashmere raglan.”
I didn’t have the guts to tell them I had started an Aran for Luke and was thinking about a Cobblestone. Every time he slipped on that sweater or grabbed for a pair of socks I made for him, I totally melted like one of those girls in the romantic movies. Believe me, you know you love a guy if you’re willing to knit a pair of socks for his size-twelve feet.
On US0 needles, no less.
Why couldn’t all of life be so simple, so clear?
Across the room Luke laughed.
“Poor human,” Janice said without a touch of her trademark sarcasm. “He hasn’t a clue what he’s in for.”
I knew she wasn’t talking about sweaters.
Other books
Menage by Alix Kates Shulman
Selby Screams by Duncan Ball
OVERTIME by T.S. MCKINNEY
Kidnapped By The Alien (Heavenly Mates Book 3) by Rosette Lex
Land of Promise by James Wesley Rawles
Hope Road by John Barlow
When Winter Come by Frank X. Walker
Stolen Moments by Radclyffe
Home for Christmas by Lily Everett
