Magic to the Bone

  Zay and I started walking back to the house, and I glanced down at my hands. The left one tingled like it had been asleep. The marks on my right hand looked different somehow, darker, with a gold cast that flowed into greens and opal blues. Working magic had affected the burn. It looked like an amazing tattoo, a spider gone wild, but painted in opalescent tones instead of flat ink. I always wanted to get a tat, but had never taken the time. I was fast growing fond of this scar.

  It was probably only a temporary thing, but I might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

  ‘‘You two okay?’’ Nola called out. She jogged down the steps of the porch, a shotgun carried, muzzle down, at her side.

  She was so my best friend.

  ‘‘We’re fine,’’ I said when we got close enough. ‘‘Did you see that?’’

  She nodded. ‘‘I didn’t know people could appear and disappear with magic. Doesn’t that violate most of the laws of physics?’’

  ‘‘I’m pretty sure it does,’’ I said. ‘‘Nola, could you do me a favor and pack some food for Zay and me?’’

  ‘‘Sure. Where are you going?’’

  ‘‘To visit my stepmom.’’

  Chapter Twelve

  Nola made quick work not only of packing a picnic lunch, but of somehow stashing enough food in one box to hold us through winter.

  ‘‘There must be something more I can do,’’ she said. I put the box of provisions in the backseat of Zayvion’s car and turned to her.

  ‘‘I don’t think so. Well, I guess if I get arrested and things go to trial, I’d love to have you testify about my character, and what you heard Cody say about my dad’s death.’’

  ‘‘You are not going to get arrested,’’ she told me. She caught my hand. ‘‘Be careful, Allie, and don’t do anything crazy. You know how much I hate visiting people in hospitals.’’

  I did know. She’d stayed at John’s side for months, and afterward swore she’d never set foot in a hospital again.

  ‘‘I promise I’ll stay as safe as I can. And since Zay refuses to leave me alone, I figure if things get bad, I can always shove him into the line of fire while I run like hell.’’ I smiled, and she shook her head.

  ‘‘You do like him, Allie. Remember that.’’

  Remember it? It was impossible to forget.

  Then she pulled me into a hug that was surprisingly fierce for a slight woman. I hugged her back. ‘‘This won’t be the last time I see you,’’ I said, hoping it was true.

  ‘‘I know.’’ She released me and stepped back, still holding one of my hands. ‘‘Be careful and be safe. Come home when you can.’’

  She gave my hand one last squeeze and stepped back. Jupe, the big lunker, pushed his head against Nola’s hip, and she rubbed at his ears.

  ‘‘See you soon,’’ I said. I got into the car. Without a second good-bye, Zayvion backed out of the driveway and headed down the road.

  ‘‘You okay?’’ he asked.

  I felt a little cold, even though Nola had given me an old denim-and-wool coat of John’s she’d found stored away.

  ‘‘Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’’ I crossed my arms and stared out the window, watching the bare limbs of trees filter the cloud-dampened sunlight. It was noon now. I figured we’d hit the city after dark. And before we got there, I wanted a plan.

  ‘‘How well do you know Violet?’’ I asked.

  He shrugged. ‘‘I’ve been working with her for a couple years.’’

  ‘‘Working with her? Doing what? Did my father know? Why didn’t you tell me that before?’’

  ‘‘My employment with her is not something I bring up in casual conversation.’’ He grinned at my scowl. ‘‘The things Violet works on are very security-sensitive.’’

  ‘‘So there’s more going on than whatever we saw Bonnie use today?’’

  ‘‘As far as I know, the things Violet was working on did not hold the potential for transferring mass.’’

  ‘‘As far as you know?’’

  ‘‘There are things she wouldn’t necessarily tell me. I spent a lot of time following you around when your father started signing my paycheck. And you’ve kept me pretty busy for a few days.’’

  ‘‘So you think Violet knows more than we do?’’

  ‘‘I doubt she knows someone has used her technology to do an instant transfer from one place to another—if it was her technology.’’

  ‘‘Good. It will give us some leverage in negotiating.’’

  Zay was quiet for a minute. The bridge was coming up soon, only a few more turns in the road until we were there. ‘‘You’re going to negotiate with her?’’

  ‘‘Hell, yes, I am.’’

  ‘‘About what?’’

  ‘‘Keeping my ass out of jail. Maybe having her pull some strings with the Hounds hunting me. She must know a few of Dad’s shadier friends.’’

  ‘‘Aren’t you afraid she’ll cut you out of your inheritance?’’

  ‘‘Oh, the hell with the money. I figure she’s named in Dad’s will, and has some sort of controlling interest in Beckstrom Enterprises. For that matter, all his other ex-wives might have a piece of the Beckstrom pie. I refuse to play a game of who gets to gnaw at the scraps of fat. Having tons of money—especially money made off of the misfortune of others—isn’t my ultimate goal in life. I want enough to cover rent, buy coffee, and maybe hitch a train out of town every once in a while. And I want to not have to live my life wondering if, when I turn the wrong corner, somebody’s going to be there waiting to kill me because I have something they want.’’

  ‘‘You’ve put some thought into this, haven’t you?’’

  ‘‘Years and years of it. There’s the bridge.’’

  ‘‘I see it.’’ He tightened his grip on the steering wheel while slowing the car. Then he crept across the bridge.

  Midway into the bridge I felt magic, like a curtain of static electricity, tingle and snap over my skin. Then the magic reached deeper, pouring into me through channels I did not know I had, filling me so full my skin felt tight. I’d never felt magic so keenly, so close, so intimate. I stretched my hands up over my head and pushed my legs out. Muscles lengthened, expanded, but still the magic poured in. I couldn’t stretch to make room for it all, couldn’t think it away, chant it away, push it away.

  ‘‘Zayvion?’’ I couldn’t hold this much; no one could hold this much magic. And while it didn’t hurt, my ears were ringing, my heart was pounding, and my vision was tunneling down. ‘‘Zay?’’

  I was drowning. Magic filled my lungs, rose up my throat, poured out of my mouth, my ears, nose, eyes. I gasped, pulled in some air, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

  I couldn’t even think clearly enough to cast a spell to use the damn stuff. This was a stupid way to die.

  ‘‘Breathe, Allie.’’

  It was Zayvion. I thought it was Zayvion. Whoever it was, I tried to follow their advice. Breathed in, even though there was no room in me for air. Breathed out.

  ‘‘Good. Again.’’

  Great. I didn’t know I’d have to do it again. I breathed in, and this time there was a little more room for air. I breathed out, and breathed in again without any prompting.

  Each time I inhaled, there was a little more room, a little more space for air, then space for air and thoughts, then space for air and thoughts and, finally, space for air and thoughts and me.

  I moaned on the next exhalation, inhaled and tasted mint in my mouth, smelled mint stinging my nose. I blinked blurry eyes that could distinguish only light and darkness. Tears slid cold tracks down my face, pooled in cold puddles in my ears.

  I was lying in the front seat of a car. I thought about my little book, wondered if I’d need to check it to see who I was, where I was.

  ‘‘Cold,’’ I said. ‘‘Cold.’’

  ‘‘Good.’’ That was Zayvion’s voice for sure. I remembered him. Remembered we were driving. I blinked again until I could see his face above me. His
eyes were the most amazing gold—all gold—with only flecks of brown. Beautiful. But he looked worried. ‘‘Can you hear me, Allie?’’

  ‘‘Y-yes.’’ I cleared my throat, then ran my tongue around in my mouth. You’d think with all that magic filling me up, I’d have lots of spit left, but my mouth felt dry as a desert canyon. I tried talking again. ‘‘I’m okay.’’

  Zayvion didn’t look convinced. ‘‘We’re going to wait a little before I agree with you on that. Here’s some water. Can you drink?’’

  Oh, hells yes. I was so thirsty I could drain a river dry and still have room for a few creeks and springs.

  He held a water bottle to my lips and helped me lift my head. I drank until he took the water away. The water was good. I could think much more clearly. I even knew where I was—in the car, lying back in the front seat, with Zay still in the driver’s seat but leaning over me. From this angle, I could just make out the cloudy sky through the window behind him.

  ‘‘What hit me?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Magic.’’

  ‘‘I know, but I mean, why? Why so strong?’’

  Zay exhaled. ‘‘I’m not exactly sure, but it might have something to do with this.’’ He held up my hand so I could see it. The marks there, the spiderwebbing was now whorls of silver, gold, blues, rose, and greens. I looked like I’d dipped my hand in liquid fire opals, or metallic oil. The marks on my arm had turned the same metal colors as my hand, but there was more of my skin to be seen between the lines on my arm. It didn’t look like there were new lines, but rather that the same burn marks I’d had since I healed Cody had gone shades of metallic psychedelic instead of just burned-looking red.

  ‘‘That’s going to be a conversation piece,’’ I muttered.

  Zay laughed. ‘‘You had me worried.’’

  I looked back at him. He was still leaning over me, and even though he was smiling, the smile faded quickly. ‘‘Really worried.’’

  ‘‘Kiss it and make me feel better?’’

  Heat sparked in those tiger eyes of his and he bent his head. His lips touched mine gently, hesitant to press too hard. I opened my mouth for him, and it was all the invitation he needed. It was still a soft kiss, a careful kiss, but I didn’t want him to pull away. And he didn’t. Not for a long, slow moment.

  ‘‘Do you know how dangerous it is to overload like that?’’ he asked me, his lips barely away from mine.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ I said. ‘‘I didn’t mean to.’’ I reached up enough to catch his mouth again, and the kiss moved over into I’m-not-hurt territory. He felt good, he tasted good. Minty. Warm. Alive.

  I didn’t want him to go away. I wasn’t sure if I was up for a full tussle, but a little hand play seemed like a really nice idea right now.

  Zayvion pulled away. ‘‘You wanted us to take this slow.’’

  ‘‘I don’t remember saying that.’’ Actually, I did.

  He raised one eyebrow and, this close, close enough that if I put my arms up around his neck I could probably get another kiss out of him, I could see that he didn’t believe me.

  ‘‘Okay. Maybe this is a bad time,’’ I said.

  ‘‘It is.’’

  ‘‘So why are you still lying over me?’’

  ‘‘I’m waiting for you to thank me properly.’’

  ‘‘For what?’’

  ‘‘Saving your life. Again. I’ve never met a woman who was so intent on dying.’’

  ‘‘Hey, did I ask for your opinion? I can save my own life just fine, thank you. And I don’t even know what you did. For all I know, I saved my life just now.’’

  ‘‘No,’’ he said. ‘‘It was definitely me.’’

  ‘‘Prove it.’’

  He drew one finger up my arm, and the cooling ease of mint followed it. It was like the magic in me burned with fire, and the magic in him flowed with ice. I shivered and it wasn’t from cold. He felt good. Incredibly good.

  Fire and ice. Hell of a pair we made.

  ‘‘What does that have to do with saving my life?’’

  His finger paused and the magic within me cooled and flowed out of me, back to the natural store deep beneath the earth. The pressure from holding so much magic and then being released from it spread like a warm blanket over me. I felt relaxed, content. I felt like we’d just had sex.

  ‘‘I Grounded you.’’ He smiled. ‘‘And you liked it.’’

  ‘‘I don’t need you to do that, you know. I could do it for myself.’’

  ‘‘Just say thank you, and we can get going.’’

  ‘‘Is that all it will take?’’

  ‘‘Well, that and admitting you are very lucky I am good at Grounding. Very lucky I was here with you just now—very lucky I was with you after you Hounded that hit on Boy—very lucky I was there when you went off the deep end pulling magic to try and help Cody—’’

  ‘‘Heal Cody. And not try. Did.’’

  Zay’s smile slipped a little. ‘‘Heal? You healed him?’’

  ‘‘I told you that already.’’

  ‘‘No you didn’t. You said you thought he was hurt, but we couldn’t find any evidence of it.’’

  Shit. It must have been Nola who I told. I hated it when I found memory gaps in my head.

  ‘‘Well, I’m telling you now. I healed him. With magic.’’

  ‘‘No one can heal with magic.’’

  ‘‘I know. I did.’’

  The smile was gone, the warmth and teasing were gone. In their place sat neutral Zay, calm Zay, Zen Zay. ‘‘That explains why it took so much to Ground you.’’

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Grounding, or acting as a lightning rod for another magic user while they are using magic, was not an easy thing to do. You had to be incredibly malleable, incredibly pain tolerant, and incredibly calm while you guided magic to exit another magic user, or exit a spell, and flow back down into the earth.

  The way magic worked, you couldn’t Ground yourself. But having another magic user—someone who handled magic in their own unique manner—step into the exact rhythm and style of your casting and Ground you was so rare as to be generally unadvisable.

  People who tried it and succeeded were highly trained specialists and usually lingered around high-powered people, serving as bodyguards. Even so, just because in theory a trained specialist could Ground a magic user, it always caused harm—a double Proxy if you will—to the bodyguard. One Offload, or price paid, for his or her own magic, and another price paid for the magic the person they were Grounding was using.

  But Zayvion didn’t look like he was in pain, didn’t look like Grounding me was causing him to pay a double price.

  Of course I’d heard that there were those rare combinations when the two magic users, caster and ground, were so well matched that Casting and Grounding were like dancing the tango, two bodies moving, breathing as one. Still, someone always paid a price.

  Maybe Zayvion was just very, very good. Or maybe we were just very, very good together.