The Trouble With Spells (19 page)

I opened the
cupboard and was surprised at what I found inside. It was an altar of sorts, a
shelf covered in purple velvet, and it contained all of his magical belongings.

My fingers ran
over the twisted black handle of his athame, which I had to admit was a bit
wicked looking in its design. It had pointed gold embellishments around the
hilt, and the metal on the blade looked dark and pitted, except for around the
edges where it gleamed a bright, silver color. There were three strange curved
notches with sharp points in one side of the blade. I’d never seen this on an
athame before.

I lifted the
knife, glancing over at him. “What are these for?”

“They’re called
gut hooks.” He chuckled.

“Oh,” I replied, a
little taken by surprise. “That’s kind of self-explanatory, isn’t it?” I turned
the knife in my hands, wondering why
he could possibly need these.

“They’re just for
show,” he said, reading my mind. “That knife was custom made for me by a local
craftsman I met. I happened to come across his store one day and was admiring
his work. We struck up a conversation about how he made his knives and he
showed me an old, pitted chainsaw blade he’d found. I thought the pitted metal
looked cool, so I commissioned him to make me an athame out of it.”

“Really? That’s
awesome. It turned out very nice, though it does look a little lethal.”

“It is,” he
replied. “So be careful.”

I smiled at him,
moving to replace it in its spot. I noticed a small chalice, a few crystals,
and his Book of Shadows. I ran my fingers over the worn leather cover and it
was as though I could feel his essence emanating from it when I touched it.

It was then I
noticed the bent corner of an old photo hanging out of the book. Curiosity got
the better of me and I pulled on it slightly, without removing it completely,
so I could see what the image was.

There was a
beautiful woman in the photo. She had brown curly hair, a soft pretty smile and
was holding a toddler on her hip.

“That’s me and my
mom,” Vance said from the doorway. “It’s the only photo I have of her.”

“She’s very
pretty,” I said, continuing to look into the eyes of the woman who had given up
her only child to protect him. My heart constricted tightly. “I hope she’s all
right.” I slid the picture carefully back into the book.

“Me too,” he
replied, a hint of sorrow echoing in his voice.

I closed the doors
quietly and turned to walk back toward him, but my eye caught something else,
another book sticking out from under his bed. I went over and pulled it out,
surprised to see last year’s yearbook with bookmarks in several of the pages.

I opened the
annual to the first place marked and found myself staring at a picture of me. It
was the same for every page marked after that. Class pictures, candid shots,
club photos, anywhere I appeared in the book had been flagged. I looked up at
him expectantly.

“I’m sorry if it
seems a bit stalkerish, but it’s the only pictures I have of you. I couldn’t
very well follow you around with a camera snapping photos of you all the time.”
He shrugged. “I still look at them every day, but it used to be a lot more
before you got your powers.”

“I guess I’ll have
to see about getting ahold of a camera and giving you some new ones then.” I
closed the book, sitting down on his bed, before sliding it back underneath
where I found it. “Besides, I’d love to have a few pictures of you too.”

Vance pushed away
from the door and crossed the room to come sit next to me.

“You didn’t find
my biggest secret,” he said with a sly grin, and he leaned over reaching
farther back under the bed. When he sat back up, he was holding a guitar in his
hands.

“You play?” I
asked in amazement.

He nodded. “A
little. My mom taught me while we were on the run. I think she thought it would
help take my mind off things.” He began strumming quietly on the strings,
tuning them.

“Do you sing too?”
I asked.

“Only to myself.”
He laughed before adding, “And usually very quietly. I wouldn’t want to scare
anyone.”

“Play something
for me,” I said gleefully, delighted he would share this part of himself with
me.

“What do you want
me to play?”

“Anything,” I
replied, my smile wide.

Vance stared off
into space for a moment and then began playing a soft melody I’d never heard
before. It was a beautiful haunting sound, filled with longing. He’d grossly
understated his talent. He was very accomplished.

I let his music
and the mood he was creating wash over me as he played, leaning back onto his
pillow and closing my eyes so all my senses were tuned into only him. Here and
there he would quietly hum along with the tune. The sound was enchanting. After
several minutes he stopped and placed the guitar on the floor next to the bed,
before he moved to lie next to me.

“Why are you
crying?” he asked in surprise, wiping a single tear from my face. “It wasn’t
that bad was it?” He smiled slightly.

I shook my head.
“No. It was beautiful. I’m sad because I can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been,”
I replied. “I’ve always been surrounded by friends and family. I was loved,
nurtured, and cared for.”

“I’ve had those
things too—just not in the traditional sense. True
,
most of my memories
of family come from my past, but Marsha has taken good care of me, and we have
a healthy kinship that’s been born out of the things we’ve faced together. It
hasn’t been all bad.” He stroked his hand over my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean to make you feel sad.”

“No, I loved it. It
was wonderful. It was you.” I nuzzled my face into the space between his head
and shoulder, loving the smell of him… fresh air, leather, and some cool
scented aftershave he wore. I inhaled deeply as he held me in his arms.

“Thank you for
caring about me, Portia. It means a lot,” he said softly.

“I love you.” My
eyes brimmed slightly with unshed tears. “I want to be part of your family.”

“You already are
my family,” he corrected me. “More family than I’ve had in a long, long time. I’ve
missed having a really close connection with someone, the kind where you can
share everything. You’ve given that back to me.”

We didn’t speak at
all to each other after that. We just relished the feel of being in each
other’s arms, holding each other for the better part of an hour, and it was
magical.

“Do you think your
parents would mind if we just slept here tonight?” he whispered softly to me.

I shook my head. “Dad
knows I’m with you, and I’m sure he’s filled Mom in on everything by now. I’m
positive they trust Marsha.”

“Do you need to
call them?”

“No, they’re both
gone again tonight. Though, maybe I’ll leave a message on the machine, just in
case my mom comes home from work early.”

Vance pulled his
cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. When I was finished making
the call, he got up and pulled me up too. He reached down and turned the covers
back, before he removed his shirt off and took off his belt. He sat down to
unlace his boots.

I was wearing a
loose flowing mini dress over leggings and a tank top, so I pulled the dress
off and sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping out of my shoes. I took a few
clips out of my hair and placed them on the nightstand next to the bed. When I
was finished, I turned to place my feet under the covers.

Vance stood,
walking across the room toward the light switch.

“Vance,” I called
softly, and he looked back at me. “Will you sleep with me tonight?  Under the
covers, I mean.”

He stood still,
staring at me for a mere moment before he came to join me. He slid into the bed
and pulled the covers up over us both. He moved up against me, turning me so we
were spooning.

“You forgot to
turn out the light,” I whispered, giggling slightly.

He reached one
hand out from under the covers and with a snap of his fingers the light turned
off, covering us in darkness except for a soft glow through the window. He put
his arm back under the blanket and hugged me tightly.

“I love you,” he
whispered into my ear as he cradled me.

“I love you too. Thanks
for bringing me here tonight.” My hand searched out his under the covers and I
laced our fingers together.

“Was it everything
you imagined it to be?” he asked with a chuckle.

“No.” I laughed. “Your
room is much cleaner than I expected.”

“I’m glad I can
still surprise you.”

“I’m surprised by
you every day.” I gave his arm a squeeze.

“How so?” he
asked, sounding curious.

“Every day I wake
up to find you’re still here and you still want me.”

“That’ll never
change, but I don’t see why it surprises you.”

“I just feel so
unworthy of your attention sometimes, let alone your love,” I whispered.

“Don’t ever talk
like that.” He hugged me tightly, his lips brushing my hair as he spoke. “You’re
worthy of so much more than me.”

“Vance. I don’t
want anyone else but you.” I tried to turn so I could kiss him, but he held me
firmly in place, not allowing me to move.

“Don’t, Portia,
please. We’re so close right now, and this feels so intimate. I don’t think I
could stop if you kissed me.” He was silent for a moment, taking in a deep
breath. “I’ve dreamed for a long time about when I would finally be able to
hold you next to me in my own bed. Only, I’m afraid my version wasn’t quite as
chaste as this.”

“I understand,” I
said, laying my head back onto the pillow, facing the wall.

 I really did
understand him. I’d had my own dreams that were similar. They came instantly
the moment I closed my eyes at night, drowning me in the promises of future
pleasure, and I relished them. Even now I could easily picture myself tangled
in his arms in the heat of passion. It was something I longed for, even though
I really wanted to respect his wishes on the matter too.

“Portia,” he
growled at me through gritted teeth. “You can’t even think about it. The
temptation is too much for me.” He started to move away. “I’m going to have to
go sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t leave.” I
grabbed at his arms before they slipped away from me. “I’ll be good. I
promise.” I immediately pictured myself in my bunny pajamas.

“Nice try,” he
laughed, capturing the image of my thoughts. “But you’re still in your pajamas.
Think of something else.”

I imagined bunnies
romping through a field together.

“Got anything
besides rabbits?” he asked.

Immediately, lions
in a fierce fight jumped into my mind.

“Nope. Too
carnal.” He laughed. “Can’t handle the bloodlust.”

I sighed in
exasperation and imagined my grandma making out with her mailman.

“Ugh, that’s
working. Please stop, though, you’re killing me here,” he said. “Now I need to
have my mind wiped completely.”

 I laughed and
tried my best to think of nothing, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 14

Vance and I
noticed a serious decline in Shelly’s mental attitude over the next few weeks,
so I began making an extra special effort to incorporate her into my day-to-day
activities. I sat by her at lunch and called her after school. Vance and I even
went on a few double dates with her and Brad.

The puzzling thing
about it was, while Brad and Vance became ever closer as friends, Shelly and I
drifted farther and farther apart. It wasn’t just me who was experiencing the
apparent cooling either.

Brad pulled me
aside one day to tell me things between him and Shelly had been getting
difficult also.

“I don’t know what
to do,” he said in a frustrated voice. “She’s totally despondent. I can’t get
her to be excited about anything. All the things she used to like she doesn’t
have any interest in anymore. She just wants to be alone all the time, and it
worries me.”

I’d promised him
I’d try again to talk to her to see if I could find out what was going on. That
led me to where I was today, sitting outside the school early in the morning
,
waiting for her to arrive.

I almost missed
her when she came, not because I didn’t see her, but because I didn’t recognize
her when she did. I wasn’t prepared for her once pink mustang to now be painted
pitch black with a funky little skull and crossbones air-brushed onto the back.
As shocked as I was over that, it was nothing to what I experienced when she
stepped out of the car.

Gone were the
gorgeous blond curly locks. While it was still long, she had dyed her hair jet
black except for a few platinum streaks. It had been flat-ironed straight and
had several small braids with little silver threads running through them.

Her makeup had
been done a shade too pale, and she had lined her eyes thickly with coal black
liner. She also wore a deep shade of red lipstick.

Her clothes were
comprised of skin-tight leather pants and a form-fitting matching jacket,
placed over a tight, white tank top. Around her neck was a long, thin leather
cord, which hung nearly to her stomach. It bore a round, silver skull and
crossbones emblem on the bottom. Black heeled, knee-high boots graced her feet,
which made her Barbie-like figure seem even taller.

Shelly reached
into her car and pulled out a large leather bag with silver studs. She slung it
over her shoulder and began walking toward the school.

“Shelly?” I asked
when she approached my position, still wondering if it was actually her.

She paused for
only a moment to give me an arched eyebrow as she glanced over my appearance. She
gave me a not-so-nice sardonic grin, flipped her hair, and continued right on
past me into the school.

I sat dazed for a
moment, too shocked for words, before I turned to follow through the glass
doors after her.